Lady in Shining Armor
by onwingsofsnark
Summary: Katharine is a knight. Lance is a prince. What will happen when a king decides to pay a dragon to abduct his son and Katharine, masquerading as Sir Eric, is sent in as his rescuer? Love in the classical sense of course! COMPLETE
1. Sir Eric of Brighton

**Nixiesocean: Stupid chapter names don't like me… grr… anyways, hope you like the story. BTW, it's meant to be cliché.**

_Chapter 1: Sir Eric of Brighton_

My father, Lord Nett Rothloz, told me _I_ had to go out and save some stupid damsel's butt. Lame huh? Well, it gets more lame. A dragon captured the damsel. Sound familiar? It is. There are always these _stupid_ princesses getting themselves captured by dragons. Maybe they were rich, funny or pretty, I don't care. So then, I ride out to get them and hear that some prince has already saved her. Needless to say, I get little of _that_ fame. Nor do I want it, mind you.

"Please, Katharine?" My father pleads. I'm not a normal woman. I'm a knight. I hate all men except my father. Men are jerks. Did you ever notice there are no women bandits? They're all men. "Do it for your mom. Your honor, I don't care. This time, if another knight saves the woman, you can come home and I won't ask you to do it anymore. Please? For me?" Damn. He knew how to hit me. Lucky me, huh? My father is so good at convincing me.

No one really knows that I'm a woman. They'd never let me compete in jousts or fight in the army. So, I'm Sir Eric of Brighton. I really didn't care. Until, I was thirteen. I had to tell my maid. She helped me. So now I still act like a boy. I'm flat-chested, like my mother and her mother and her mother's mother et cetera. Someone shook my arm.

"Yes Father," I replied. "I want a dead promise on this. I'm not riding out and saving some damsel's butt only to find out she's been saved."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Sir Eric." He agreed with some sarcasm. 'Eric' comes from my middle name, Crei. I bowed and left, Swift was pre-saddled and I mounted. Then I remembered, I didn't know where I was going. I dismounted and headed back inside, helm on.

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Lance sat on a rock in a cave. It had been over two weeks since he'd been captured. He slept on hard cave floor. _That_ alone made him petulant. His father, the king, hadn't sent a knight to 'save' him yet. _That_ annoyed him as well. It irritated him that he couldn't kill the dragon himself. He had been unarmed when the dragon swooped in and caught him. Sure, he knew how to cuss out the dragon in four different languages. He couldn't, however, kill the damn dragon! This, by the way, was back.

"Great!" He said sarcastically. "You're back."

It looked smug. "Yes, Prince Lance, I am. I am glad you have observed this fact." The dragon, which was red of all things, had black-tipped wings and ivory teeth and claws. "Your knights taste good too; I thought I'd inform you."

"You _ate_ them?" Lance screamed; this was beyond belief. He had heard rumors, but never experienced it full-hand.

"Oh no, Prince Lance, only the horses. Do you know how terrible all that metal is for my digestive system?"

"Shove it." Lance whispered in Fogian.

"You shove it." The dragon replied in the same language.

"You- You know _Fogain_?" Fogain was the hardest language to learn, both knew it.

"Yes." The dragon said simply, it was speaking in Fogain still. Just then, a knight galloped in, riding a white stallion.


	2. Prince in Distress

**Nixiesocean: Hello! Thank you for reviewing! I'm glad you like the characters, I've tried really (really, really) hard on keeping this pretty interesting while still incorporating the old story of the damsel and the knight. Plus, this is my first _Humor_ story, so bear with me. Onto chapter 2!**

_Chapter 2: Prince in Distress_

"You're- you're-" Lance stuttered. The Lady/ Knight spun and stabbed the dragon's tail that had knocked off the helm. She picked it up and held it under her right arm.

"A girl, I _know_." She spat. "How come _I_ have to save your sorry ass? What about," She made quote marks in the air, while dropping the helm. "_Damsel_ in distress did you not understand?" She picked the helm up and slammed it on her head. She screamed in the cave and pounded the cave walls. Her metal gloves made clanking noises the echoed in the large cave.

"Watch it, _knight_, I'm still the prince, you know." Lane yelled.

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"Like I care!" I yelled back. "You're a snotty, over-fed, primped-up, self-absorbed _freak_!"

Prince Lance turned red. "Look, you came to save a damsel, I'm _not_ a damsel and I'm _not_ in distress. So, you can get back on you're little horsy and ride off into the sunset." He turned around and started walking back to his rock. I smiled behind my helm.

"Technically, I came here to save the _captive_. Normal people that are caught by a dragon are _damsels_ not _princes_." I stepped up to him.

"I can kill a dragon without your help." He said over his shoulder. He turned to face me. I picked him up and threw him over my shoulder, much in the same way a bandit would take a hostage. "What are you doing?" He yelled into my ear. "Put me down! Do you know who I am? PUT ME DOWN!" I was sick of his yelling. I set him down… on my horse. I mounted and took the reins and we cantered out of the cave. He grumbled for a bit, and then repeated his question to me. "What are you doing?"

"I'm rescuing my damsel-in-distress, Prince Lance." I said with yet another grin. "Besides, what ever would you do without your dragon to give you food?" I asked. "I don't think you'd want to dirty your little hands!"

"Like you'd know." He hissed through his teeth.

"I do, in fact." After that, he shut up. He was obviously tired of yelling, so he fell asleep. I kept riding until dark. Then I woke him up to set up camp. He staked the tent up-side down then made the fire pit a square. I sighed and righted the tent, showing him how to set it up. Then I filled in the corners of the square to make it circular. When I told him to get tinder, he stared at me. Finally, I went and got small sticks and shoved them in his face saying. "Get more of _these_." It was tiring. It went on for a few days, maybe even a week. Since it took me two weeks to ride out here, it would take us two weeks (maybe more at the pace we were going) to get back to the castle. One night, I decided to ask him how he had gotten captured.

"So, how did someone as high-and-mighty as you get caught by a dragon?" I asked, goading him into another fight.

"I'm not saying, Lady-in-Shining-Armor." He grumbled.

I decided to tease him more. "Visiting a lover?"

"No." As if.

"Then what were you doing?" He looked away. "Its alright to say you were visiting a lover out in the forest."

"I was _not_ visiting _anyone_!" Uh huh.

"Right. Go to bed, stick." I turned and drew Goldflame, my sword.

"_Stick_?"

"You're Lance, right? A lance is a big stick, like your ego." I knew I could've stopped, but I didn't.

"_My_ ego? You're the one that pick me up and _tied_ me to a _horse_!" Don't you love being a knight?

"That horse is named Swift and if you don't go to bed, I'll knock you into dreamland!" He was wearing my patience _very_ thin.

"First, your name, I _do_ have to give you due honor for rescuing me." He said, moving to his sleeping furs.

"Sir Eric of Brighton is all you are getting, stick." I replied.

"You are _not_ Sir Eric. Tell me your name." He insisted.

"Sir Eric of Brighton," I said through gritted teeth. "Now _go to bed_!" I pointed Goldflame at him. He quickly got under his covers and closed his eyes, though I doubted he fell asleep. I pulled out my whetstone and started to hone her edges.

_Ah…_ Goldflame said in my mind. _You haven't done this in a while, mistress._

_Sorry, Goldflame. I've been busy. It's not like you need it._

_True, mistress, but it feels nice._

Nightly conversations with my animate sword were common. After a while, I sheathed Goldflame and threw some logs onto the fire. Finally, when I was away getting more wood, Swift whinnied. I bolted, unsure of what was wrong. I heard a voice.

"It's the prince! And his horse!" Oh no they wouldn't! Swift was mine. I peeked into the campsite. _Great, bandits._ I thought. I donned my armor silently, it was right near where I was standing. I grabbed my helm and jammed it on my head. As I reached to get my shield, I discovered it was where I had set it: on the other side near the bandit's feet. "Oh, look, a family crest!" One said, pointing at my shield.

"Whose is it?" Another asked.

"Rod'll know." What is it with people and naming their children after tools? How could Lance sleep through all this? I charged into the clearing, brandishing Goldflame. She ignited and set waves of light into the shadows, blinding the bandits. _Be merciful_, I whispered to Goldflame, knowing full-well she'd kill anyone who tried to hurt me or Swift. _Don't kill_.

It did a sigh. _Yes, mistress. Though they deserve the ultimate judgment_. Goldflame's burst of light had blinded the bandits, I needed such cover. I hit one hard on the head and he crumpled. Goldflame screeched into the bandit's heads. They clutched their heads and I whacked another one. As I turned to face the third, I saw him charging me. I kicked him in the… ahem… and he fell. When I turned to where Lance had been sleeping… I realized one last fact: Lance had been taken… again… along with my shield.

_God, this is so cliché!_ I thought to myself. I had promised myself something long ago. I wouldn't fall in love. All the princesses fell in love with their "knight-in-shining-armor". Love made you go head-over-heels. I couldn't act like a total airhead and keep my reputation as the Merciful Knight. Sighing, I turned and mounted Swift. We rode off after the wayward prince.

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Lance struggled against his bonds. Once, he'd tried biting one of guards, but then they tied a gag around him. He listened in on a conversation between Rod (the leader) and one of the guys who'd taken him prisoner.

"Whose do you think it is?" The henchman asked.

"This shield?" Rod asked. The other man nodded. "I'm surprised you have it, it belongs to Sir Eric of Brighton."

**Nixiesocean: Bwhahaha! And you (might have) thought Katharine wasn't that well known!**


	3. Captured Yet Again

**Nixiesocean: So, uh, you probably all hate me for not updating, but, you know, I'm finally out of school (yay!) and now I'll be updating more. Ok? Once again, sorry!**

_Chapter 3: Rescued Yet Again_

Lance was surprised. _What would he say if he knew that I've been riding with Sir Eric?_ Rod looked at him. "Y'know Sir Eric?" He asked, looking grim.

He gave a muffled response. Rolling his eyes, Rod asked some of his bandit-henchman to untie the gag. "Yes sir, I know Sir Eric." Rod inquired him to explain. "Well, I, uh," How could he tell the leader of a bandit group that he had been unable to save _himself_ from a dragon? "I saw h-him jousting. He's very good."

"That he is, prince. That he is." Rod agreed. "Gag him."

"Wha-" He was restrained yet again.

Rod and the bandits moved out that day. Lance marched sandwiched between two guards. They had daggers and one poked it into his back.

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_Curse that incapable prince!_ I said to myself for about the millionth time. Sighing, I dismounted and looked at the tracks in the soft dirt.

_Goldflame, light please,_ I touched my helm with Goldflame's sword point. My helm lit up like a torch._ Thank you._

_You are welcome, mistress. Think not of it._ Goldflame was always so complementary Lance had been interrogated, unless the bandits had another prisoner. He had been made to stand and walk. They left just a few hours ago. I was gaining. We rode again, my helm glowing brightly in the dimming daylight. The stars came out over my head, but the chase kept me from growing weary. I couldn't have the prince's life on my conscious. The king would never forgive me, or my father for that matter.

I had caught up to the bandits' night camp. _Goldflame, shut off my light._ She complied. It was a tiring chase considering that I had ridden all night. The faint light from the campsite illumined just enough for me to see where the guards were placed. I lowered my lance and charged into the campsite. Goldflame, who was strapped on my back, sent out waves of light, blinding, yet again, the bandits. I grabbed Rod, who I guessed was the leader by where he sat, and dropped my lance. Goldflame jumped out of her sheath and flew into my hand.

I dismounted and forced Rod to his knees. "Give me the prince and my shield and your bandit leader will be spared." I challenged. "If not, I'll just have to take on this camp by myself." The bandits laughed; one even shot and arrow at me. I spun, while still holding Rod, and sliced the arrow in half. They stopped their amusement. "Now give over the prince and my shield. Now!" The bandits jumped to obey the knight. Lance mounted Swift and a latched my shield over Goldflame. Once we away from the camp, I removed my helm and put it on my saddle-horn.

"Thanks." Lance said grudgingly. "Not that it'll happen again."

"We'll see, Prince, we'll see." I replied, keeping my eyes from turning to his. Finally, at the break of day, we stopped to setup camp. Lance had fallen asleep on my shoulder, not that it's all that comfortable, and was lightly snoring. For an unknown reason, even to myself, I didn't make him setup camp. I setup his tent and bedding and set him in them. Yawning, I setup my tent and bedroll on the other side of the camp.

_--About 8 Hours Later--_

Lance woke with few yawns. There were multiple things that surprised him. _One:_ He was in a bedroll and in a camp. _Two:_ Sir Eric wasn't up. _Three:_ It was about 10 bells. He put breakfast on the fire and went over to wake up Sir Eric. Her face reflected the clouds perfectly. He reached out to touch her face, but fate has terrible timing. Her eyes flicked open just as he was going to touch her cheek.

"What the hell are you doing?" She asked, sitting up.

He cleared his throat. "I was, uh, just waking you up."

"I see. Well, since I'm up, go fetch some water." She said callously. He grabbed the bucket and ran to the creek, which he was told, was to the west. He scooped both buckets into the small river and picked them up, ready to turn and go back to camp. Sighing, Lance turned to the east and started walking. The water weighed heavier than he imagined. After getting a few yards from the river, he stopped. Someone came up behind him. Standing, he spun to see the person. It was Sir Eric.

"What do you want?" he asked. This was _not_ the time for her remarks. "I need to get this water to camp."

She looked down, red staining her cheeks. "Look, I've been rude." She stated. She stepped toward him. "So, what I'm saying is that, well, I'm sorry." Tears ran down her cheeks. "Damn this, Lance. Do you know how hard it is to be a girl?"

"Well, uh, I've never had that experience, so no. Sorry, I don't." He said simply.

She rolled her eyes. "You have sisters, right?"

"Yes."

"How old are they?" She persisted. He was about eighteen. He had three sisters, each a year younger than him.

"Seventeen, sixteen and fifteen," He swallowed.

"So, they, have mood swings?" Sir Eric asked, still getting closer.

"Yes…" He still didn't get where she was going. She was uncomfortably close. She twined her fingers into his and kissed him on the lips. They hugged. Everything was perfect.

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I looked up while Lance hugged me. _Damn these mood swings. But I'm helpless._ There was a bowmen looking down the shaft of an arrow. It was pointed directly at Lance's back. He let the arrow fly. Breaking the hug, I shoved him to the ground, taking the arrow right in the stomach. I saw Lance look at me. It must've been a sight, me with an arrow in the gut and him staring at me from the ground. He caught me from falling. The last thing he said to me was _'I love you, Lady Knight'_.


	4. Insights and Promises

**Nixiesocean: That you! I broke my record of 9 reviews! Twelve! Yay! Thank you all!**

**_Shinyobjectslover_: I did that on purpose. Have you ever noticed in the stories that the knight rescues the damsel, they fall in love and have a happy ending? That's what this part was portraying, that sudden, almost queer, sort of love.**

**_Ardelis Mercy_: Thank you (Bow) I'm glad you like her nickname for Lance.**

_Chapter 4: Insights and Promises_

She stood there like a captured painting. Her hair floated in the wind, and her blood pooled at her feet. Tears ran down Lance's face. She had taken the arrow for _him_. In a moment's reaction to her bravery, he caught her as she fell to the ground. Her face was peaceful, almost, well, _accepting_ of the prospect of death. He lifted her limp, bleeding body and raced to the camp. He set her near the fire and broke the arrow, that much he knew.

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King Clem paced back and forth. "Stop that, dear." His wife, Lilia, said. "You'll wear a hole in my new carpet." She looked back to her stitching. "Plus, everything will be okay, you said so yourself. Now sit, you're making _me_ nervous."

"The dragon said he'd return Lance if no one came to rescue him after four weeks. It's been _five_! FIVE!" Clem screamed. "The princesses aren't ready to take the throne, Lance _is_!"

"Sweet, sit." The queen commanded. The king obediently sat. "Now," She set aside the ruined cloth and put her hand on his knee. "Everything will turn out okay. Lance will be brought back and the knight rewarded properly. Then, Lance will marry our bride. Alright, love?"

The king sighed. "Yes, queen-love. It is."

"I know he will take a liking her. The father said she would be a wonderful bride for Lance." He queen reassured the fretting man.

"She should be, at her bride-price!"

"Oh, shush, Clem." Lilia smacked his knee. "Now, go do some paper-shuffling."

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I passed in and out of consciousness. Every time, Lance was there. I was resigned; he took my heart like no other man. Not even the ones that used to be able to best me. I awoke again. My lips were dry. "Water…" I croaked. "Water, please."

He obediently brought over a tin of water. I barely could drink. He dabbed water onto my lips, then, he poured water into my parched throat. It was all I could do to gag on the odd liquid. Sighing contently, I laid down my head on his lap and fell asleep.

---

"_Her name is Katharine, Katharine Crei." Your mother said, holding the infant. She died holding you, Katharine._

---

"_You can't do it!" The boy taunted. "Girls are weak! Go home!"_

_She had tears in her eyes. "No, I will stay!" The boy hit her again. He hit her until she said she would leave. When he let up, she turned and jumped on him, screaming that she would never leave. That she would never be beaten._

_"Katharine." The instructor yelled. He pulled her bully and herself apart. "Gyvin." He said the boy's name with more malice. "I told you two not to fight. Gyvin, report to my office after this, Katharine, go to a herb-master and ask for a quick-healing potion, then report to my office."_

_"Yes sir." They choursed. She scrambled off_

_---_

"_You are knighted Lady Katharine." She stood. It was a glorious day. The sun shone and her father stood, proud as any father could be of his child._

"_She deserves no knighthood!" A voice shouted from the crowd. "She is a scandalous, wretch!" Tears stung. After all these years, how could someone doubt her ability? Hiding her hurt, she turned._

"_What makes you say that, good sir?"_

"_I saw you! You were with him. Where is he now, _Katharine_?" The man challenged._

"_You are jealous, Gyvin. You are jealous that a girl beat you to knighthood, I have done no such thing." Her head buzzed. Who was he talking about?_

"_I know what I saw, wench!" He stalked off._

_---_

_"Do it for your mom. Your honor, I don't care. This time, if another knight saves the captive, you can come home and I won't ask you to do it anymore. Please? For me?" Her father asked._

_---_

_"Where's the damsel?" She demanded._

_"I'm the captive." He responded._

_---_

_The arrow took her full in the stomach. She felt her blood pouring, but she couldn't stop it…_

_---_

_She saw Lance's pleading look… she had to live. He was worth living for._

I awoke, breathing. There was Lance, looking as beseeching as I had remembered. Breathing, I spoke. "I'll live, Lance. I will." Whether or not he heard is a matter unto itself, the fact of the matter was that I said I would live. I keep my word.

**Nixiesocean: Normally, I don't put footnotes, but I'd like to thank you all, yet again, and give out some 'good little reader' pins.**

**That and… don't cha love Katharine's review of her life?**


	5. The Healer, the Dragon and the King

**NO: Thank you all. 14 Reviews. (Gives out pins) Now, I won't keep you waiting!**

**Plus, for being good little fans, I'm giving you a longer chappie to chew on!**

**News:**

**1- Tomorrow is my 14th Birthday.**

**2- In a couple days, I'll be gone for five days.**

**3- I'm starting Summer School (evil Gym class)**

**So, if I update less often during July, don't shoot me.**

_Chapter 5: The Healer, the Dragon and the King_

"Water…" She said. "Water, please." Lance came over to give her a tin of water. He sat. She couldn't drink it, so he dabbed it onto her lips, then gently poured it into her open mouth. She sighed, then laid her head down on his lap. She was calm, as if remembering something. He couldn't move, not without waking. After about an hour, he gently lifted her head and set back onto the blankets and went back to work. He had to change her bandage soon.

She mumbled something. Lance turned. He came back to ask her to repeat what she had said, but she had fallen into her sleep. She breathed long and deep. Nothing had come to attack the camp; the bowman must've gotten scared when he hit a knight, not him. He turned to change her bandages. It wasn't bleeding anymore, but he kept the bandages clean every half-hour or so.

A voice boomed from all directions, there was no origin. "_Prince Lance_." It said.

"Y-yes?" Why was he scared? He had _her_ to defend. He couldn't turn into a rabbit and run. "What to you want?"

"_You want this lady to be healed, do you not?_" It asked.

Of course he did! How could anyone think otherwise? "Yes, sir."

"_Then don't ask the questions!_" The ground shook from the force of the reprimand. It didn't seem to affect the sleeping woman.

"Yes, sir." He said. Who was he to command the crown prince say 'yes, sir'?

"_Take her five miles to the north. A healer resides there. Ask her to heal your sweetheart. Be warned, she demands a high price._" It warned. Lance nodded, though he didn't know if the voice could hear him. "_Good._" That confirmed it, he could see the prince. "_Take Swift and Goldflame as well, Prince Lance. You will need them._" Then, a breeze floated over him and swirled. The air was tinted a shade of red. "_Ride quickly, Prince Lance. She dies, though she fights it._"

"Can you tell me her name? Just this question!" He yelled, throwing his voice into the swirling winds.

"_She will tell you when she finds it the right time, prince. Don't dawdle. In order to get there, head north as I have said, then say you desire into an oak tree._" Oak? How could he tell an Oak from an Elm? He felt the voice leave.

"Wait!" It turned to wait. He breathed deeply. "Why do you want her to live?"

"_I have my reasons, Prince Lance. We will leave it there, is there anything else?_"

"If you could just-" He pleaded.

"_NO! Now leave before I revoke this gift!_" It left, giving Lance no options but to either follow the mysterious advice or let the woman he loved die and return to the palace. He approached Swift.

"Now, now. Don't be feisty," He said to the horse. "I need you to take the lady and I north five miles, if not, your mistress will die." It seemed to understand. He took Sir Eric's sword and drew it. It was intricate gold flames with a ruby at the hilt. It had a leather-wrapped handle.

_What are you gaping at, boy?_ It startled him. The sword could talk? _Why am I drug from my oh-so-comfortable sheath for you to stare at me? I'm not a woman anymore!_ It was a girl?

"Uh, well, I'm sorry, miss-" Lance started.

_Goldflame, if you would._

"Er, Goldflame. But, your mistress is hurt and a voice-"

_A _voice_? You have _got_ to be kidding! Are you dragging me around to follow some random voice's orders? Bah! People are degrading!_

"Well, considering this is my only option…"

_You _have_ other options! Boy, you need to set me aside. You are the first man in two hundred years to pick me up. Set me down, I can sear that pretty face to the moon._

"Sorry." He put the sword down. "But I need you to come with me-"

_To follow the voice's orders?_ She asked with a mental snort.

"Well, yes…" He said honestly. "But it's my last option. The capital is over a week's ride from here. She won't last that long."

_I see. Gently put me _back_ in my sheath, strap it to the stallion and we'll be off._

"So, you're just going to help, just like that?" He asked, surprised.

_If my mistress is in danger, I'll help. If you're bluffing, your great-grandchildren's grandchildren will feel the pain, it'll last so long. Understand, boy?_

"Yes, ma'am." He saluted the sword. Gently sliding the bi-polar, female-spirited, animate sword back into her sheath, she thanked him. He packed up the camp; He thanked Sir Eric for pounding the routine into his thick skull, and strapped it to Swift. Lastly, he tenderly picked up the sleeping form and sat her in front of him, as she had done to him. He kissed her on the forehead and gently kicked Swift.

Three hundred yawns, two doze-offs (with a not-so-gentle waking from Goldflame) and three awakenings from his lady they arrived about five miles north of their camp. _Say your desire into an Oak._ What was an Oak? Was it three-leaved with a red spot connecting the leaves? Was it the tree with a star-shaped leaf? Did it have multiple-small leaves or one big leaf? Was it pointy or flat? Sir Eric awoke.

"Do you know what an Oak is?" He asked her.

"Yes." She yawned. "Where are we?"

"I'll explain later, what does an Oak look like?" He pressed.

"It's leaves look like a hand, big leaves that fall every autumn. Is that all?" She asked, eyes drooping. "I think it was ahead to your right, Lance." She fell back into a slumber. Swift gently moved forward until the came upon a tall tree that had the leaves she had described. He dismounted while holding her and gently set her on the bed of leaves. He went over to the tree and put his hand to it, whispering his desire. The tree shook sending birds into the air. Nothing else happened. He sat down next to Sir Eric, almost in tears. Here he was, the middle of nowhere, he had expended his last option to save her. They had been gone over three weeks together (not including the two weeks he had spent _waiting_ for her to come and save him). His father was probably screaming. Sighing, he flopped back onto the bed of leaves. He might as well die along with her. It was all he could do.

"You called?" A voice asked. Lance sat up. She was dressed so she blended in with the forest. "The birds told me a stranger had come with a woman. Are you the ones that called me?"

"Yes, ma'am. I did. You, see-" He couldn't finish his sentence. She lifted her hand.

"I know why you are here, young man. You wish her to be healed, do you not?" She asked.

"Yes, ma'am." He made his answers short and concise.

"Good, take her with you, and the horse." She turned away, walking into the forest. He picked up his lady and, without being asked or told, Swift followed him. The reins were over his head and he had no guiding. His lady was heavier each step. She never woke and was getting paler.

"She's dying." He said to the woman in front of him. "She's not breathing properly. She's growing paler."

"I know!" She snapped. "We're here." Swift stopped, waiting outside. He entered a low-hanging building with a small fireplace and a homely appearance. Herbs hung from the ceiling, giving it a mixture of scents. "Set her on the floor." It was dirt-covered and had no rug. He set her down, making sure not to bump her head on the hard floor. "What's wrong with her?"

"She was hit by an arrow. I kept her bandages clean and well boiled. I don't know why, but it isn't healing correctly." He stated, feeling terrible for not paying attention when he had his nature classes.

The woman touched the arrow-wound. Then glanced back up at Lance. "I see. It is more than just a wound to the stomach." She said. "There's a wound to the heart. I can only heal the arrow." She sighed. "I'm sorry, but I'll do my best." She looked back at the sleeping knight. "You'll pay me after the service is done, yes?"

"Yes. Please, just do what you can." He readily agreed, anything to help his Lady-in-Shining-Armor.

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The dragon shook its head. How long had it been out? He remembered the knight that had "killed" he laughed. It was good to be of service to the King. Maybe, he could abduct one of the King's beautiful daughters to keep. All the current knights were married. The rumble shook the cavern. He would abduct one, maybe more, of those _beautiful_ little girls. They would make good little servant girls. He may even be able to keep one, or two. After all, the King doesn't need all three! The King could pay him in girls rather than the money he had promised before, when the Prince arrived safely. They should be there by now. Standing, the dragon took flight. He flew off where the King had seen him last time. He sent flames out for the fun of it. Laughing once again, he sped up his wings.

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Clem looked out over the balustrade. A large, red dragon was coming over the horizon. It breathed fire over and over again. The king raced down the stairs and out the back door and mounted his horse. He rode to the small grove where he'd met the dragon when he had agreed for it to abduct his son. He was going to demand his son back. The dragon landed.

"Asnarinth!" He yelled. "You have some nerve!" He yelled.

"What ever do you mean by this, King?" The dragon asked, his baritone voice rumbling.

"I mean, _dragon_, that you cannot keep my son from me!" He yelled.

"I," The dragon looked taken aback. "Do _not_ have your son, Sir King."

"Then where is he?" The king demanded.

"I do not know. The knight rode off with him after I played 'dead'."

"I see, listen, name your price and I will pay you to find him, and get him back." The king said. The dragon agreed and flew off. He swept the forests day and night. Then, he saw a fire burning with a man kneeling over a hurt woman. He recognized the man as Prince Lance, the wayward son. Where was the knight? Was it the woman? He decided to use his magic to trick Prince Lance into going to the healer in the north (another Dragon, albeit a good one) to get the woman so he could get on his way back to the King and then the Dragon could claim his reward: a princess. Breathing deeply, he spoke.

_"Prince Lance_."


	6. Battle of the Wills

**Nixiesocean: So, er, thanks for reviewing! I've found out that its better to have long chapters less often than short chapters with shorter wait-time. Good for you! BTW, the summer school is 9-12, but I'll still be tired, so the chapters won't be out nearly as often. Sorry!**

_Chapter 6: Battle of the Wills_

"There." The healer said. "That's all I can do." The woman stood and left Lance staring at the form of Sir Eric. She was breathing slowly. The arrow-wound was closed, but Lance was unsure about the other 'injury' that the forest-lady talked about. Lance stroked Sir Eric's hair. It was silky and black as midnight. She seemed to not be as peaceful anymore. She was struggling with something. He watched the sleeping figure make faces. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. She was beautiful, in every way. When he looked up again, the Healer had returned with a small amulet. She seemed to know the sadness that was surely reflected in his eyes.

"I cannot help her much more, Prince Lance." He was surprised that she knew his name, but he let her continue. "That you know. But, my liege, I can help _you_. Take this amulet and put it on. Though she is not awake, the lady will be able to contact you through her thoughts and dreams." She seemed so… he couldn't place it. She seemed to be so familiar in the way she acted and treated him. Something nagged in the back of his mind.

Sighing, he looked back down at the amulet. "How much will all this cost?" He asked, knowing the whole thing would be fairly expensive.

She looked at him dead in the eyes. "I will only ask payment in one way."

"And that is?" He pressed. He was eyeing the amulet now, nervous with someone looking him in eyes. It had been so long.

"I want," She paused. "Her name." She pointed at the sleeping figure that he had despised at her bossiness, then loved when she saved him from this exact fate.

"I don't have it." Lance whispered. "She hasn't told me it."

The Healer looked at him, then spoke in an undertone. "Then ask her it." Lance breathed deeply. How could he ask her for it? The voice had told him that she would say it in her own time, the Healer said she wanted it, but why? What would a Healer profit from having a person's name? If all else failed, he could give her his birth-name. He nodded. He would ask Sir Eric. He put the silver-chained tigerseye amulet over his neck and shut his eyes.

_Sir Eric?_ He asked, feeling the vastness and the closeness of a mind.

**_A picture flashed in his brain. It was black-and-white. A knight charged another. The lances were colored._**

His mind was puzzled, then he thought. _Yes. It is I._

**_Another picture: A man was confused. He had no map and Lance got the feeling that the man ha no sense of direction._**

_Are you lost?_

_**Nodding.**_

_Why?_

_**Shrugging.**_

_Do you need help?_

_**Shaking.**_

_You just said you were lost._

_**Nodding.**_

_Okay. This is just _frustrating He said to himself

**_Picture: The woman looked sad. It looked like she was on the bridge of tears._**

_Oh God…_ He thought. _She can hear my thoughts, even to myself!_

_**Vigorous nodding.**_

_What are you fighting?_

_**Picture: A low wall, easily climbed over. It had a large fissure on the other side, so as not to be climbed back over. A woman was forced over by two men, one holding a bow, the other a sword. They pushed the woman to the wall. She flailed at them, scratching and biting. She was losing. They kept forcing her to the wall. She was desperate now. She turned and tried to run, they halted her. She was pushed back to the wall. The men kept pushing and pushing. She was at the wall now. She was about to be pushed into the large crack on the other side.**_

_I don't understand it. Give a less complex picture._

_**Shaking.**_

_You can't?_

_**Nodding.**_

_Give another picture._

_**Picture: A man dressed in black. He had a scythe and looked starved.**_

_Death?_

_**Nodding.**_

_I see. I'm helping you; I've taken you to the Healer that was north of us. She healed you, but she said that a wound of the heart was keeping you from waking up. What is it?_

_**Picture: A couple walking out a temple, hand in hand. The man was dressed in black, the woman in white. Picture: Two entwined rings, both gold.**_

_You're already married?_

_**Shaking.**_

_You're already engaged?_

_**Nodding.**_

_Oh my God._

_**Picture: Tear. Picture: a man and a woman hugging. She kissed him on the lips. Picture: A knight pointing at his lance.**_

_You love me, not your fiancée?_

_**Nodding.**_

****Aloud, Lance sighed. He was the prince. He had to uphold the laws, and this was one. Her father said she had to marry, then she had to. _You have to. Your father arranged it._

_**Shaking.**_

_Mother?_

_**Nodding.**_

_Do you know who it is?_

_**Shaking.**_

_I see. Is this your injury?_

_**Nodding.**_

_We will figure it out later; you need to wake up. Your body is wasting away._

_**Picture: Heavy sigh. Picture: The woman woke up. Lance was there. They hugged. Both were grateful.**_

_Yes. I'll be there._

_**Picture: Smile.**_

Lance took off the amulet. She was stirring. The Healer looked at Lance. He sighed. "I couldn't. She was worried about other things. Plus, she could only contact via pictures and emotion."

"Then her name isn't a shape or thing. Thank you, that is what I want, Prince Lance. That was your payment. Look, she wakes." Lance looked down at the woman on the bed. She had enchanted him, saved him _three times_. He thanked the Healer and went back to watching his lady knight. He heard the Healer leave the room.

"Lance?" She asked.

"Yes. I'm here." He leaned over and hugged her. He truly _was_ grateful. Lance turned. Rumbles outside drew his attention.

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Cyrun looked out through her small window. Asnarinth landed in the yard, away from where Prince Lance could see. She opened the small door and left. She hunched over and silvery-gold wings emerged from her back. Clothes melded into her body and her nose turned into a snout.

"Asnarinth." She greeted.

"Cyrun, how is the fairest dragon west of the Gromel Mountains today?"

"No flattery today, Asnar. We have to speak." The silver-gold dragon growled.

"Aren't you now, Cyrun?" The younger dragon asked.

"Stop being such an ass. Prince Lance loves that woman. I can't let her die."

The red-black dragon's eyes narrowed. "You had no problems with killing _my_ Lovely. Why this mortal's?"

"First off, I didn't _kill_ your 'Lovely' she's still alive. Secondly, I know love. You wanted your 'Lovely' out of lust. Lance doesn't."

"Right." Snarled the other dragon. "He loves her because she saved his over-fed ass."

Sighing, the silver dragon sat. "Listen, I can't charge him as much as I normally do, Asnar. He won't be able to pay it."

"He's the prince. He should be able to." The red dragon advanced on the older, smarter silver dragon.

"If I charge him my price, he'll lose what he gained. That's not how I work."

"Just have him pay it, Cyrun. You promised you would."

"I _never_ promised I would have him pay it. I can't charge him the thing closest to him. That is this woman."

"Then get the damn woman's name." Asnarinth replied before taking flight. _Sometimes,_ the silver-gold dragon said to herself, _I wish I wasn't in debt to him. I wish some knight would save _me_ one day._ Her sensitive ears picked up noise; she quickly shifted into the Healer form.

Prince Lance emerged from the door. Internally, Cyrun heaved a sigh of relief. "Yes, Prince Lance?"

"I wanted to thank you, Healer. She is awake." Prince Lance said with respite.

"And?"

"I haven't asked her." Prince Lance replied.

"I need it, that was my price. You agreed to it, Prince."

"I know. But, is there something else I can give you?" Something he could give to dragon that had everything… except someone to love. Someone to care for.

"No, Prince. There is nothing. Go, my Master will be back after he hunts." She warned. Truly, Asnarinith came and checked on her about every two hours or so, maybe even sooner.

"May we meet him? Surely he must be as nice as you, Lady Healer."

"No, just go." She would make up a name. One she once heard from a man she had healed. "Please." Now she _was_ desperate. She could hear Asnarinith approaching. "Oh damnit, you need to hide. He's too close now." She ushered him inside and took him to her cellar. She opened the door. "Where's your lady?" She asked.

"Here." Prince Lance's girl came over and leaned on him. "Where are we-?"

"You two need to hide, my master is not kind." Cyrun interrupted. They arrived at a small dugout hole. "Stay here, he won't smell you here." She rushed out, transforming once she closed the cellar door. Her silver-shape reached full dragon size as soon as she left the hut. As if on cue, Asnarinth landed outside.

"What's the girl's name?" He demanded, pieces of charred deer still in his mouth.

"I- I," She stuttered. He narrowed his eyes. "Chamaephyte."

"Chamaephyte? No, Cyrun. Her name is not a plant. Give it over, _silver_."

"Then I don't have it. Neither does the Prince. No one has it, Asnar." Cyrun said. She took a deep breath. "What will you have me do, Master?"

"I have run out of patience, Cyrun. I," He pulled up a claw to her chin. "Have the power to take Draconisis _from_ you. Don't fail me again." Nodding in sumission, she bit her tongue. If she spoke up now, she'd lose her Draconic powers. "Good. Now, I'll be leaving in three days the prince and his little girl should be at the palace or there'll be hell to pay, understand?"

"Yes, Master Asnar." With that to end the conversation, Asnarinith leapt into the sky. Suddenly, he veered back to earth. He landed. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes, Cyrun. You smell of human." He charged. "Where are they?"

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He had heard yelling outside. Lance and Sir Eric left the safety of the cellar. They rushed up to the outside. There they saw a red-black dragon, his captor, Lance realized. But wasn't he supposed to be dead? The red-black dragon advanced on a smaller, silver-gold dragon. Both dragons spotted the pair.

"No, Lance, please!" The silver-gold dragon pleaded. "Why did you-" With a wicked backhand, the red-black dragon batted the smaller dragon aside. The silver-gold dragon sounded like the Healer.

"There you are, Lance. Ah, you brought your lovely with you, how clever." Asnarinith said. "Cyrun was telling me how you hid like a rabbit."

"We are not rabbits!" Sir Eric yelled to the dragon. "I may be unarmed and unarmored, but I can still kill you!"

Asnarinith smiled. "You can try, knight. I've been alive longer than you've been thought of." He leaned in his face to hers, gold eyes unblinking. "Now, how about your pretty little name?"

"Don't give it to him, lady!" 'Cyrun shrieked. "He'll kill you!"

Asnarinith turned on the dragon. "You little backstabbing bi-"

"Fight me like a man!" She screamed.

Grinning, the dragon turned to Sir Eric. "I'm not a man."

Through all this, Lance was stunned. He recovered his senses. "Fight me, dragon. She's not at full-strength." Sir Eric stared at him. Then it hit him; the dragon didn't know she wasn't ready. She was bluffing him.

The silver-golden dragon stood and moved between the squabbling triple. "Asnarinith," She said. "I hate you, I've never loved you. Not a drop of admiration!" She grinned. He had known it. "I, do however, have a streak of kindness, unlike you!" She put her wing to stop Asnarinith from attacking the couple. "Kill me. Let them go."

He grinned. "You have a deal, little one. I'll kill you." He reached out a claw and touched her forehead. Cyrun crumbled, but, in her stead, a female with silver-blonde hair and pale skin lay, almost dead. "But I'll kill them anyways!" He hurdled at the helpless pair. He was two feet from them when he hit an invisible barrier. At every angle, the couple was protected. "Damnit, Lance, I'll find you later." He flew off. Sir Eric ran to the body of Cyrun. She was beautiful. And naked.

"Lance, get clothes from the hut. She needs warmth." In truth, she really was cold. Her eyes flicked at the noise.

"Am I dead?" She asked.

"No, Cyrun, just human." The other woman replied. Lance returned. "Here, put these clothes on."

"Human? Why am I-" She thought about the previous events. "He didn't kill me. He took away my Draconisis, my Draconic features." She cried into Eric's shoulder.

"It's okay, Cyrun, we'll help you." The knight promised. "Lance, saddle the horse. She's coming back with us."

And she did.


	7. The Perfect Romance

**Nixiesocean: … so, uh, about the questions… oh, wait. I have none  
(Hint, hint. Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge) in any case, onward to chapter 7!**

_Chapter 7: The Perfect Romance_

Cyrun looked out over the hills. It was dawn. This dawn was dimmer than the millions upon millions she had seen before. The sun wasn't as bright. The grass not nearly as green and the animals were not nearly as active. It was depressing. All of it was. Sir Eric had assured her that it would be okay, that everything would be fine. But, in her heart, Cyrun knew that it would never be okay. Nothing ever could be. She couldn't be the most powerful beast. She couldn't surge her wings against the relentless call of the storm. She couldn't sit still and watch time pass her by. No, she had to _live_.

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I came up to Cyrun. She was in one of my spare clothes, breeches and a loose cotton shirt. I gave her a thick cloak to chase away the morning chill. She was silent.

"Cyrun, come on. We're leaving." I said, trying to assure the dragon-gone-human.

"I have to live." She whispered. "It's all too confusing, knight. I can't watch time pass. It is so peculiar. I have to walk to places. I have to _breathe_ in life itself."

"I know, Cyrun. I-" She didn't know the feeling. She didn't have it in her to lie to this poor woman. "Don't know. Listen, you have to be alive. To need to love who you are, not what you were."

"I love who I was. I hate who I am." She said without emotion. "I want to be a dragon, Eric. I want to _live_ the Draconic life. I want to live on the winds. I want to be who I was."

"You can't," I said honestly. "You have to be Cyrun the human, not Cyrun the dragon."

"Then kill me. I can't live this short life. I don't know how!" She wailed. "I've always taken time to do something. I've thought it up over the span of a decade, then thought about the pros and cons for a few centuries, then I'd commit the idea over another century. Don't you see? I can't live a human life!"

I put my hand on her shoulder. I felt like an older sister. "I'll help. Come on, we need to go." I took her hand and gently pulled her toward our camp. Lance had set it up and taken it down. Since my injury, he seemed to do things without my asking. He even cooked dinner without my asking. "We're back now, Lance. We can go now."

"Good. Swift almost bit my fingers when I tried to feed him, you'll need to." He said. "That and Goldflame requests that you shine her."

_He forgets I can talk to you, Mistress._ Goldflame snickered, if a sword could laugh.

_I know, Goldflame. I know, he is still a boy inside himself._ I replied, knowing as well as my sword it was the truth. _I think he still treats me like I am injured._

_That he does, Mistress. It annoys me. _Her sword said.

_Go to sleep._ I whispered. _If you sleep._

_Alright, my lady._

"Thank you. Let's move out. Cyrun, you ride Swift. Lance and I will walk." He balked. Normally, we dual-rode. But with the addition of Cyrun, one or both of us had to walk. "Yes, Lance. You will have to _walk_." I still teased him. Our relationship wasn't perfect. I still had problems with his ego; he still had problems with my commands. Such as walking.

"No, it's okay." Cyrun said, eyeing my stallion. "I think I'll walk. You may ride the pony, Lance." She recommended. For some reason, Swift wouldn't let Cyrun ride him. It disappointed me. I thought he would be more kind, now that I was healed.

"As if he was a pony." Lance snorted. "He's more than just a pony." He had neared the stallion, who had his ears back, and reached out a tentative hand. "Now, now, boy. I didn't mean it." He tried to put the saddle on Swift, who promptly knocked it off. Lance tried it three more times, to the pleasure of Cyrun, who if she wasn't so sad, would've laughed. "Damn horse." He cursed, then threw the saddle at me. "You ride him, princess-of-the-oh-so-polite-pony."

I caught the tossed saddle with ease and effortlessly put the saddle on him. "See, my oh-so-sweet prince-in-distress," Cyrun cracked a smile at the joke, albeit a small one. "It is simple. To saddle my little boy."

"You little devil is more like it." Lance countered.

"My little sweetheart." I crooned. I then lifted a leg and Swift kneeled so I could mount. "There's a boy. Good Swift." He stood up and I laughed. "See? That's how it's done."

"Right. He's partial to you, Eric." Lance objected.

"Unless you want to dual-ride, shut up." I said peevishly. Damn mood swings.

"Okay, _princess_, I know you have the power to make me shut up." He said with emphasis on the title.

"I do!" I said, turning to face the prince. "If I hadn't saved your sorry, over-spoiled, self-rightious ass from that damn dragon, you'd still be there, being a servant to _her_," I pointed at Cyrun. "Former master. So, if you want to get back to your little castle, shut the heck up and _stay _that way!" He shut up. He slowed up, so as to put distance between himself and me.

"I think that was a little harsh for a person that just saved your life." Cyrun advocated. "Try being a little more polite."

"If you have some miracle mix that takes away one's mood swings, then stop speaking." I lashed out. Her eyes widened, the filled with tears. "Oh, Cyrun, I'm so sorry…"

She looked back to me. "No, I don't have anything that would take away… what do you call them, mood swings." Apparently, dragons didn't have them. "What are they?"

I breathed deeply and began the lesson of the birds and the bees.

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Lance was shocked by Sir Eric's anger. Sure, she had gotten angry before, but she had never taken up the argument about the dragon. She knew it was a sore subject. Yet, she brought it up anyways. She put salt in his wound. She had the nerve of a dragon and the guts of any noble, which she was, he reminded himself. She had never thanked him for taking her to Cyrun. She had never apologized for calling him a girl. She never explained the kiss. Sir Eric in and of herself was a mystery and a puzzle, yet he was missing a piece. It was like losing one book of a series. Or, having just enough room for that little bit of clothing, but the pants just won't fit.

He knew he held some affection for the knight. It was hard not to. She was a beautiful woman, but rough. He desperately wanted to find the missing piece to the puzzle. He thought knew why she was being so rude. She wanted to distance herself from him. She was already engaged. She couldn't fall in love with someone that wasn't her fiancée. He wanted her to approach him about it. He hoped she would, along with her name. He wanted to talk to her about it, rather than just be rude so he would start not to like her anymore. Sir Eric and Cyrun were deeply engaged in some sort of talk. He sped up to listen, then, hearing what they were talking about, slowed up again.

The women were going to leave him to his thoughts. And what thoughts they were. He loved Sir Eric, but this wasn't the perfect romance. It was almost the opposite.

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"So, understand?" By this time, my cheeks were burning. I hadn't had this talk since my nurse told _me_ when it started.

"I believe so, knight." Cyrun replied, probably ignorant of the embarrassment the subject caused me. She sighed, then looked up at me. "What do you think of romance?" What in the world…?

"I hate it." I said. "I have to."

"Why?" She asked. "Why do you hate it?"

"Because." I said shortly. "I do."

"Is it because you are engaged?" Why did she have to ask these questions?

"Yes." I declared. "It is. Why do you want to know?"

"I've always heard my m-the dragon- say that damsels are rescued by their knights and they live happily ever after." She seemed saddened. "I wanted to know what you thought of such a story."

"That it's a load of crap." I said. "No one lives happily ever after. You always will have fights."

"I see." Cyrun said.

"What do _you_ think of romance?"

"I don't know. I've never experienced love before. It's a hard subject."

It was my turn. "I see."

"And, since I'm human…" She was extremely accepting of the fact… "I thought I might as well get used to it, and I wanted to know love when I felt it." Wow, talk about saddening…

I looked behind me. There was Lance, absorbed in whatever thoughts men think of. "Lance!" I called. "We're stopping for lunch." It was high noon but the trees gave us protection from the scorching sun and the midday heat. We stopped and had lunch, comprised of small berries, boiled roots, bread and water. Cyrun went off to do whatever she likes to do, leaving Lance and I staring at our food.

"What's your problem?" He demanded. "We've known each other for slightly over a month and you've kissed me. Why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you. Hate is a strong word." I replied, ever so calm.

He rolled his eyes. "Then strongly dislike."

"I don't strongly dislike you." I replied mildly.

"You are so…" He yelled.

"So what?" I inquired. "Please, do tell."

"Hard to understand." He whispered. "I don't get you."

"Then deal with it. I'm washing my dishes, hand me yours." I said, standing. I reached out my hand. He stood and gave me his dishes and looked me in the eyes.

"I'll wait for you, Eric. Tell me when, and I'll come calling." He walked away, leaving me stunned. What had he just said? Did he mean all of that?

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He sat by the rocks, staring into the clear brook where they'd fetched the water for lunch. Cyrun came around a tree. A tear leaked out his eye and dripped into the brook, rippling the reflection of his face.

"You love her." Her voice carried across the damp forest floor.

"Yes. I do."

"I… overheard." She admitted.

"I see." He said.

"Why?" She asked.

"Why what?"

"Why do you love her, if she's so hard?" The reflection came back. Why did he love her? Why didn't he hate her, like she surely did him?

"I don't know, Cyrun. I've tried to, it gives me a headache."

"What do you think of romance?"

"Right now? Or before Sir Eric?"

"Now."

"That women have too complex of a mind. It's so hard. She loves me one day, then the next she's yelling at me."

"That wasn't the answer to my question."

He smiled. At least she knew what she wanted. "Of romance…" He hummed a tune his mother had used when he was a child. "I like a bit of romance now and then, but right now, I think that it's all a load of crap."

"Is that why you are having a hard time with your lady?"

"No."

"Then what is?"

"What?"

"What is the problem?"

"That she is bi-polar."

"She told me why."

His cheeks burned. "I know _why_ but not why she can't control it."

Cyrun rolled her eyes. "I doubt you'll ever understand."

"See? That's just it! You women think we men are always inferior!" He stood and looked at Cyrun.

"I never said that." She whispered. "I simply said that you wouldn't understand the human female." He rolled his eyes and stalked off.

Sir Eric had re-saddled and re-bridled Swift. "You can ride. He'll let you." She walked ahead, leaving Lance staring at her 'little sweetheart.' Sighing, he mounted the horse and, surprisingly, trotted, then slowed up, just behind Sir Eric. Cyrun came out of the forest and jogged up to Sir Eric. They were deeply engaged into a chat.


	8. The Capital

**Nixiesocean: Ok, I think of all my stories, this is my favorite! Cheers for you, because then I'll update more. (Not that I'm not normally). Okay, I won't keep you from your _wonderful_ chapter 8!**

_Chapter 8: The Capital_

"He thinks romance is 'a load of crap' right now." Cyrun reported.

"Thank you." I said.

"He says it is from 'women having too complex a mind'. But I think he wants your name. At least give him that. I know how much he loves you, Sir Eric." She pleaded. It was a hard decision.

"I can't Cyrun. If I do, he'll come calling-" I tried to reason. Didn't I kiss him? Didn't I at least have some affection for him? For God's sake, I saved his life! Twice!

"See! Look at yourself! I know you want him to come calling. I can see it in your eyes!" Cyrun quickly looked behind. For what, I had not idea. "Katharine, you need to-"

"How in the name of the infernal abyss do you know my name?" I hissed. I never said it aloud. How does she know it?

"I don't know…" She pondered. "How did I?"

"I won't tell him my name, Cyrun. I can't!"

"Then I will!" She whispered. "I've been able to tell what a person wants so deeply my whole life. It's like a sixth sense. You want to not be engaged." Is she some sort of witch? No. She's just good at interpreting how a person acts. "He wants your name."

"He won't get it, Cyrun. I won't give it to him." I replied. I knew I was being rude. I couldn't help it. He would be the first male in a long time that would know my name, not as Sir Eric. "I can't."

It was late evening when we stopped. Lance, I'm sure, was intrigued on what we talking about. I refused to tell. Cyrun, as always, ran off.

"So, uh, how far until we reach the capital?" So, he wanted to make small talk. I guess it's better than badgering me for my name.

"About a day. We will need to find a place to stay-" I started. Lance held up his hand.

"The palace." He stated. I cringed. I hated anything to do with such an extravagant place. My room at home had two rooms: Bedroom, Sitting Room. Neither of which were over-elaborate. They were furnished simply. I had simple cotton and wool bed sheets (Albeit they are soft covers…).

"No, it's okay… my manor is less than a day's ride-" I tried to avoid the prospect of the palace/castle thingy he stayed in.

"I insist." He persisted.

I sighed. I couldn't refuse the prince, though I had before. I just couldn't. "What about Cyrun?"

He looked at me. "We have more than one guest complex, Sir Eric," He laughed. "Cyrun will be fine."

We were silent for a while. It was awkward. I had to break the silence, but what to say? It's not like I can say '_Hey, Cyrun told me that you want to know my name. Guess what? I'm not going to tell you!'_ Though, a month ago, I would've.

"Lance?" I asked.

"What?" He was obviously in a bad mood.

"Oh, crap." I said, standing. "I forgot." Truly I did. Lance just looked at me. He shook his head and picked up a stick and started carving on the stick. It was in some language I couldn't read. When I tried to see it, I looked at me and stood. He quickly left, leaving me by the fire, alone with Goldflame and Swift.

_Goldflame?_ I called to my shealth, drawing the sword.

_Yes, mistress I am here._ The sword responded, her effeminate voice echoing inside my head.

_What do you think Lance was carving?_ I asked. She laughed, in a sword-like way.

_Do you think I know? I doubt you do._ She was right. She probably didn't know. Obviously, I didn't.

_Could you at least _try _and see if you know what it said?_

_I can, though it is possible my magic won't work. If it doesn't, ask your dragon. She may know._

_Fine._ I snapped. I was too irritated to notice she hadn't called Cyrun a human. _Take it from my mind._

I felt her reach into my memory of what he carved into that stick. She glowed a light blue color (unusual for her, considering she's _Gold_flame…) I heard her give a laugh. _He made it too easy, mistress._

_And it means?_

Lance entered the campsite again

_It reads, in Old Vyingun,_ "True Love is a mountain: Hard to climb, but rewarding at the end."_ It is a proverb often used by the Vyins back in the 3rd Year of the Hate. They were in a deadly fight with their neighbors, the Rrunfs. The Rrunfs used some sort of spell to make man and woman hate each other, so they wouldn't support each other and produce more soldiers to fight them._

_How do you know that? I mean, you weren't around 500 years ago, were you?_

_Yes, my mistress, I was. I was an Rrunf._

Lance spoke. "Sir Eric?"

_We'll talk about this later._ I shoved the sword back in her sheath.

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"You want her name, Lance, do you not?" Cyrun asked. _How did she know?_ Lance asked himself.

"Yes, Lady Cyrun, I do." He replied. If she knew what he most desired, maybe she knew Sir Eric's name. "Do you know it?"

"Yes. She has refused to disclose it, Lance. I'm sorry. In due time you will find it." She said, staring into the reflection of the clear night sky. It was pitch black with the white dots known as stars.

"Damnit. Here," He handed her the stick he'd carved some sort of phrase in. It had come from his mind. He had no idea what it said. Cyrun looked at it, feeling the birch-wood. She looked at the writing. "Can you read it?"

"Yes." She stated. "It says, _"True Love is a mountain: Hard to climb, but rewarding at the end." _Where did you find it?"

"I wrote it." He replied simply.

"You know Old Vyingun?"

"No. I was trying to write some sort of phrase, and that came out." What was wrong with writing something you didn't know? Well, all of it. First off, you shouldn't even know _how_ to write it, second off, if you don't know how to read it, how do you know you wrote it correctly?

"I see." She handed back the stick. "I'll meet you back at camp in the morning."

"Thank you, Lady Cyrun."

"Do me a favor and don't call me 'lady' I am not one. Therefore no worthy of a title." He didn't try and debate with her. He left, leaving Cyrun staring at the night sky.

He reentered the camp, seeing Sir Eric staring at her sword, Goldflame. He spoke softly. "Sir Eric?"

She took one look at her sword and put it back in the sheath and stood. "What can I help you with?"

"I was, er, wondering if-" She cut him off.

"I'd give you my name?" She finished his question.

"No. I was wondering if, well, you'd…" She eyed him warily. "Ride Swift. He seems not to like me." He finished lamely.

"Uh, Sure." She said. She was uncomfortably close. When he subconsciously closed his eyes, he knew something was out of whack. By that time, they were already kissing. He moved his hands to her hips. He felt her move her hands to his neck. This time, there was no archer who tried to kill him. There was just the campfire. There was just them.

It wasn't their first kiss. That one was rudely interrupted. He was still conscious of where they touched. It felt wonderful. It felt just right, her in his arms. He felt tears wet his cheeks. He broke the kiss and saw the face of his beautiful Sir Eric wet with tears.

"What's wrong?" He asked, genuinely concerned for her.

"We can't do this, Lance." She whispered. They sat. She placed herself on his lap and laid her head on his shoulder. "We can't. You know it."

A smile tugged at his face and he kissed her cheek. "Do I care?" He whispered. "At least your husband will have a wonderful wife. I'll be jealous, but happy for your new husband."

"Thanks, my little stick." She whispered. She closed her eyes and slept right there on his shoulder. He laid his hands on her back and slowly stood, moving her to her sleeping furs. She slept soundly throughout the night.

He yawned at went to bed, happy that he knew she loved him, sad because of her engagement.

The next morning was a dreary one, grey sky with a steady downpour of a light mist of rain. Sir Eric rode Swift and talked with Cyrun, who had come back as promised. Eric was admently shaking her head while Cyrun, once again, was pleading. It seemed they did this every day. Sir Eric shook her head one last time, which he guessed, ended the conversation. Cyrun smiled and said something to Sir Eric, which made her turn pale. Now, it was Sir Eric's turn to plead. Cyrun was grinning from ear to ear at Sir Eric's pleads.

When Cyrun looked up, she gasped. And shook Sir Eric's arm. Saying something, He guessed she was excited. When he looked up, he saw it too. The castle gates. They were huge! How come he'd never noticed it before? Maybe it was because he was never intent on watching some lame gates. When the crowd saw us, Sir Eric quickly reached down and grabbed Lance, pulling him up onto her saddle, leaving Cyrun to walk.

The guards yelled something to the effect of_ 'He's back! Prince Lance is back!'_ We tried to move through the crowd but they swarmed the group. Finally, Sir Eric demanded to be let by. She said I would give a speech later. Wait! I was to give a _speech_? I tried to dissuade her from such a promise, but she wouldn't hear any of it.

Finally we arrive at the palace gates, the king, his father, was there. He greeted Sir Eric and Cyrun. Cyrun, to her obvious dismay, was sent to the guest rooms. Hostlers took Swift and the pair walked inside.

"Thank you Sir Eric. The _whole_ country is grateful that you had the courage to slay a dragon to return the Crown Prince to us. Come along." They entered a room that held a man, who wore the same coat of arms as Sir Eric and a chair. It was, as the rest of the palace, very lavish. "Ah, Lord Nett. I'm glad you could make it."

"Hello, King Clem. Hello Prince Lance. Hello Sir Eric, of Brighton, is it not?" Lord Nett said.

"Yes, Father." She grumbled.

"I'm glad you are here, Nett." King Clem said jovially. He clapped his hands. A maid appeared. "Take Sir Eric, here, to her dressing room." Wait, he knew Sir Eric was a girl? She bowed at told Sir Eric to follow her. Another maid appeared. "Take Lance here to his rooms. He needs a bath." Lance stared at his father. Had he just told a maid he _smelled_?

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I grumbled as maids cleaned my black hair and put it into tiny braids that made were then put into an intricate headdress. I had a dark blue dress shoved onto my body. It felt weird. I haven't worn a dress in forever. I actually felt my legs, rather just hearing the clank of metal as my legs brushed each other.

"Okay, lady, you may meet your father now. He is in the parlor." The maid told me. I yawned one more time and left the dressing room.

"Hello Father." I said.

"Ah, Katharine!" He gave me hug. "I'm glad you look so beautiful. Come along. You look so _wonderful_. Come along. You need to meet your fiancée!" He simply glowed with pleasure, which made me wonder who my fiancée was.

"And who has that 'oh-so-delightful' position." I said, disgust plain in my voice.

"Oh shush. You'll find out. Come along. He's in this room." He hurried me up until we reach 'this room'. Which, I have to say, looked like any other room.

He opened the door and pushed me in.

Who I saw made my jaw drop.

**Can I hear a holler for fluff? You gotta admit, fluff rocks!**


	9. Cyrun's Portrait

**Nixiesocean: You are all wonderful. Truly you are. Less people read this than my other story (_The Fatal Mistake_) Yet I have more reviews for this story. Thank you all for faithfully reviewing!**

**No Q's to answer… so… onto the story!**

_Chapter 9: Cyrun's Portrait_

Cyrun found herself in a lavish room with gold-plated bedposts and gorgeous paintings of knights battling dragons. It seemed, in every picture, that the knight prevailed over the dragon. Which, by some freaky twist of fate was red. The woman, who seemed to stand in the background cheering, was always dressed in regal clothing normally in blues or purples. Cyrun was confused. How had dragons made such a terrible impression upon the humans, when there were kind and friendly dragons, like who she used to be, out there too? Why had the humans only chosen to depict the ruder, cruder and more lustful of all the dragons? She shook her head, silver hair moving back and forth like waves of a silver stream.

"My lady." A voice said behind her. She turned. A maid bowed low to her. Cyrun smiled and greeted the maid. "The king, at the knight's request, has ordered me to take measurements for your new dresses." She held out a piece of leather. Cyrun sighed. Take measurements? She nodded and the maid got to work wrapping the leather around certain parts of her female body, the marking it on a piece of parchment. "Does my lady request a certain color for her new dresses?"

She thought about it. "Yes." She spoke in a quiet tone. "I would like a red dress, a silver dress and a golden dress, if at all possible." The maid wrote quickly on her parchment and disappeared out the door. Cyrun turned back to the portraits. One in particular, out of all ten, caught her attention.

This time, a knight wearing blackened armor fought a silver-gold dragon. Cyrun stared intently at the picture, trying to reason what it was trying to say. To he surprise, the picture started to move. _The dragon breathed, the knight was pushed back by the dragon's icicle-cold breath. The blackened knight turned his horse around and charged the dragon again, lance lowered to receive the blow. Before the dragon could react, the lance plunged into its chest plate and near the heart. The dragon bled heavily, trying in vain to stop the bleeding, all malicious thought toward the knight vanished, leaving the dragon on the ground, dying in its own pool of blood._

_The blackened knight neared the dying dragon, _beautiful_ he thought to himself. _This is a beautiful dragon._ He kneeled beside the once-proud dragon and touched the dragon's forehead._

_"Who are you, to kill a silver dragon?" It said through dying breaths._

_"I am the one Asnarinith! I have slain many dragons twice your size!" He bragged. Then, Ansarinith turned his head. "Ah, my little Cyrun is alive, is she?" He cackled. "Yes, my dear, now you see how _I _became a dragon!" He reached down and once again touched the dragon's forehead. This time, a single silver strand was pulled from the dragon's head, where there was no hair. Ansarninith took the string and gently set it on his head, feeling power course through his veins. _Her eyes took in the whole scene; she was unable to break away. She felt herself being drawn inside the picture. Cyrun looked back at the dragon. _The dragon's form shifted and in its place was a beautiful, silver-haired male. He was still middle aged. His well-built chest was covered in a layer of well-bled blood. "This is your demise, dragon!" Ansarninth yelled, driving the sword that appeared in his downward. It was a killing blow. The man on the ground closed his eyes. It would accept death this way. It would not be against him, but this false knight. _Cyrun was nearly into the story herself. Tears ran down her cheeks. This man couldn't die! She shoved herself into the story. _A silver-haired woman appeared above the man. He knew she was here to take him to the after-life where he could live with all other deceased dragons in peace._

_"Make it quick," He said while trying not choke on his own blood. "Please." The man might of thought he was speaking to him, but in truth the dragon-gone-human was pleading to the angel who was going to take him from this horrid place. Take him from this ghastly pain. The man shoved the sword downward. It shattered on an invisible force three inches from the downed-man's chest. All three sets of eyes widened in surprise. Cyrun took this chance to reach down and grasp the dragon-gone-human. She wretched herself out of the portrait and into her room._

Both people were breathing very heavily. The other dragon looked at her with his stormy grey eyes. Recovered from such an odd encounter, Cyrun took action. She rolled him to his side, so he wouldn't choke. She was now glad she had insisted upon taking a small store of herbs with her when she had left her forest-dwelling a couple days ago. She reached in and pulled out a blood-clotting herb. She wrapped his chest would with strips from her old dress.

The man watched her from his spot of his side. She spoke in a soothing tone that lulled him into a much-needed sleep. Cyrun smiled. Healing people always seemed to alleviate any stress she had bottled up. When she looked down, the man was fast asleep, deep in his mind.

She continued rubbing and de-stressing his body. When he rolled on his back, she would turn him back on his side. Cyrun propped his back up with her extra pillows. She then took her torn and tattered to the door and wrapped herself in her overly fluffy bathrobe.

Hours later, the man awoke. Cyrun smiled. "Welcome to the lands of the living." She said kindly. Lands of the living? He wasn't dead?

"Where am I?" He croaked. Cyrun smiled.

"You're in the castle of King Clem," She spoke in a quiet tone.

"Oh good. I need to talk to him about sending knights to slay dragons. One of his almost killed me…" He tried to sit up, but Cyrun gently applied pressure and kept him on the bed. "What? King Clem, right? Well, I need to…" Every time he would try to get up, the woman would keep him on the bed.

"First, introductions. I am Cyrun." She said pointing to herself.

"I'm Bamien." He whispered. His head still reeled from the attack.

"Good." Cyrun cheered. "Now, you are in the castle of King Clem _IV_. Got it?"

"The fourth? Goddamnit!" He cursed. Where was he? Well, he knew he castle of King Clem IV… but when? "What's the year?"

"1503."

"Oh my god." He said, eyes wide. "I'm a millennia ahead of my time…"

"Well, at least you aren't dead." Cyrhun said through a smile. "That has to be a good point."

"It is, believe me. If you hadn't come…" He trailed off.

"Bamien, promise me one thing." She said.

"What?"

"Don't leave until I explain this to my friend. My friend is a knight-"

"No!" He shouted. "I will not be 'explained' to a knight!"

"Bamien, she's a lady. She will understand. Please." Her wide sea-blue eyes made his resistance crumble. He took her hand. No man had touched her so closely, it made her blush and she had to quickly turn away, wrenching her hand from his. She quickly left the room; not realizing all she wore was a bathrobe. But then again, she had never felt the burn of embarrassment. Halfway down the hall, she realized she didn't even know where she was going. Or where Katharine was. She took a maid aside who did her best not to laugh at the half-dressed Cyrun.

"No, my lady, I do not know where Sir Eric is. He was taken by the king with Prince Lance." The maid replied, bowing deeply. "If I may…?" Cyrun let her leave, and tried to find her way back to her room. Which, at the moment, was inhabited by Bamien. She entered and quietly shut the door. She picked up a spare blanket from the foot of the bed and curled up on the floor; much in the way she did back… she didn't want to think about then. She was living in the now, not the then.

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"Oh my god." I said, my eyes tearing up. I had thought I was going to my funeral. I wasn't. I ran, dropping all appearances of being a lady and ran to embrace my fiancée. We kissed and held each other so tightly, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to breathe. We kept kissing, not wanting to let either go. This was better than anything in the world. When my father finally coughed, we let each other go.

"King Clem, if you would…?" My father said.

"Ah yes. I, King Clem, officially recognize the betrothal of Lady Katharine," My fiancée stared at me when the king said my name. I cuddled closer. "To Crown Prince Lance." I grinned, hugging Lance like nobody's business. I cried. I was not normally so happy. This had to be the best day of my life. Engaged to marry someone she loved so deeply as Lance was rare. She was expecting to have to marry some old man with three wives.

"You're _my_ stick." I whispered to him. He still had his hands around my back. I loved Lance.

"You're _my_ knight-in-shining-armor." He whispered back. "And you were worried about your fiancée being angry about you kissing me. I think he is quite happy you did." Lance said, laughing aloud. Lord Nett and King Clem along with everyone that had been present left, leaving us alone.

"I love you, Lance." I said, moving up into the space between his arm and his body. Her dress was crumpled, but she didn't care.

"I love you, Katharine." He said, using my name for the first time. I would always remember the way he said it, so tender and loving. Like he was caressing the use of my name, not a fake one. He leaned down and kissed me.

**Nixiesocean: yay for fluff (wow, I didn't mean it to have _that_ much fluff… lol.) But hey, who cares, I don't! Now, I bet you area all happy for Katharine… but beware! This couple has a few more bumps in the road to everlasting happiness!**


	10. The Year Long Demand

**Nixiesocean: Yay. I broke 1,000 reads. : - P Booh-yah! Anyways, good reviews… er, reviewers…**

**I won't keep you from my (not so) oh-so-wonderfully-delightful (too egotistical?) chapter ten.**

**And yes, this chapter is funky because part of it is Bamien, not Katharine, being first person. I thought it would work better. Y'know, now that he's healed… partially.**

_Chapter 10: The Year-Long Demand_

I opened by eyes. Cyrun sat there in front of me, rubbing my back. I have to say, the last time I had this sort of treatment was a hundred or so years before I was pulled a millennia into the future. Which, if I got back massages every day, wouldn't be so bad. I smiled at the thought. Immediately, I wiped the smile from my face. I felt weird not having a dragon-form locked up inside me. I felt empty. I was starting to realize how much dimmer this world was. Maybe it was me adjusting to the future, but I could've sword Cyrun's bathrobe was a brighter shade of blue a day ago.

"I couldn't find my friend. She was busy." Cyrun said quietly in my native language. "I'm sorry."

"It's –that feels really good– fine." I said, surprised. How did she know Draconic? I'll have to ask her when she's done with this massage. I looked over at the wall. There, sat a painting. A knight charged an invisible foe. No lady cheered for this knight. In fact, I thought I saw a few ladies running from him…

"Is your chest wound any better?" I rolled onto my back and allowed her to open up the shirt I wore (were clothes always this uncomfortable?) and unwrap the bandages. The wound was healing rapidly, I could tell. She smiled and put more herbs on it, then got clean bandages, which she re-wrapped my chest with. Cyrun put the bloodied ones into a basket. "I'll be back once I boil these in the kitchens." She left before I could ask my question. I yawned and put my arms above my head. At this rate, the treatments wouldn't last much longer. I closed my eyes and a picture formed. Cyrun's silver-haired head was clearly visible. Nothing else, but her. Why did I continually think of her? It had to be because of her kindness to me. Every other human I've met was rude; she was different. She truly cared about my well being. I liked her. Cyrun shortly returned, cheeks flaming red.

"What's wrong?" I asked in Draconic. It was easier to speak in your native tongue, even if you knew Common.

"Nothing…" She trailed off. I knew something was wrong. I've been able to since I was a wyrmling.

"Something's wrong, what is it?" I asked, I didn't mean to be so demanding. Then again, being a dragon had made me only _slightly_ narcissist.

"Nothing." She insisted. I had a trick from when I was a dragon. I reached out my mind. I couldn't… why? It was I imagining myself reaching out my mind. I couldn't…? What else couldn't I do?

"Please, Cyrun, If there's-" I whispered.

"It's the 'nobles' they call themselves such a term. They are nothing noble. They are scoundrels only fit for drudgery work!" I had never heard such vehemence from this, or any, woman.

"What did they do?" _Greeeat. Now I'm curious._

"It is not what they did so much as what they said." Am I going to have to drag it out of her? "They- they…" Guess not. "You've been here a _sun_ at most. Now they think I'm sharing your bed!" Oh crap. "The horrors they speak of are wretched!" Duh. When I looked at her from across the room, I could see tear leaking down her cheeks. I attempted to sit up, but my lance-injury kept me in bed. She saw me. "Don't you dare, Bamien! You are in no condition to move yourself." She came over. Her silver hair that was so much like my own slipped from behind her shoulder and onto me. She smiled and suddenly looked cross. "You better not get up, Bamien. Just because I'm not here, doesn't mean I won't know when you get up." She was too kind for me.

"I promise. But there's nothing to do. I'm bored when you leave." Did that come out right? "I mean… I need thing to keep me occupied while I'm bedridden." That did.

"Okay. I'm sure the library will have some books to keep you occupied. But for now, I need to look at your bandages. Roll over." She seemed to be more commanding when slipping into the healer role. I rolled over. Happily getting the massage I had been waiting for since her angry entrance and ruined the relaxation it had given men. She worked the warm paste into my chest; I had been lying on my side when she had entered the room so frustrated. "Oh good. You'll be able to walk tomorrow." Only tomorrow? I wouldn't get these heavenly massages every day? Ah well, It was good while it lasted.

"Cyrun?" I asked, the question popping back into my head. "How do know Draconic?"

"I, uh, learned it." She said quietly. I suspected it wasn't so, but let her get by. "How is your chest feeling?"

"Good, I suppose." I answered. "How old are you?"

"I don't rightly recall." Yet another vague answer. "Why?"

"Well, since you have silver hair. I was wondering. Since, humans don't get it until they're plenty older than you look." I explained. There was something she wasn't telling me. I knew it. "Please tell me."

"I'm. I'm like you." She admitted rubbing my chest. I feel like a puddle right now. The words sank in. She was like me? In what way?

"You- you lost Draconsis?" She nodded, tears shining in her eyes and slipping down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Cyrun. Were you silver too?" She nodded again. So she was like me. Maybe that's why she came into the picture to save me. "Did that vile knight do it?" The tears poured like rain. All her sorrows seemed to pour over me via tears.

I hugged her, comforting her like I would a lost wyrmling. She spoke in hushed tones. "I let her die. I let her die. I let her die." She repeated the phrase over and over again. I was lost, but let her cry herself to sleep. It was obvious she needed the comfort of me here. She fell asleep, tired from the loss of tears. Exhausted from the lack of sleep she'd been suffering because of me. Her silver hair seemed to shine in the dim light of the room. Despite her earlier protests, I lifted the lithe Cyrun onto the bed after I had gotten out. I set her in my warmed spot and tucked her in. I walked around the bed (Still a little shaken from a day in bed) and climbed in the other side, rolling her into my arms. I would be there when she woke. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply to excuse myself into the lands of dreams, where Cyrun seemed to so often intrude.

_I walked among the hills and rivers. I walked. When I looked down, I had claws. I had wings. I was a dragon again! I took to the sky, feeling the press of air on my wings. I felt the surge of joy that always occurred. I saw another silver dragon join my court with the winds. It seemed to meld with the wind, even more so than I. It spun in the air, doing a corkscrew in the middle of a cloud, coming out soaked from head to tail. It grinned like a child._

_"Hello, my dear Bamien." Cyrun's voice emerged from the dragon's mouth. She did another corkscrew; I followed her maneuver. She pulled out at the last moment, luckily so did I. I recognized the dance-like flight we were doing. It was the mating flight._

-_Katharine-_

"I didn't know you felt so strongly, Kath." I loved his use of my name. I loved him. "But, I'm glad you "saved" me from that dragon." We were cuddled on the couch. It _was_ comfy… so was Lance. He tried to keep speaking. I shushed him by putting my fingers to his lips. I dropped it and kissed him again on the lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him harder. After what felt like ten minutes, we released. "When do you want to be married, lovely?" I love him. By God I do.

"One year." I whispered. "I want a year to prepare."

He seemed shocked, but let me have my way. After all, I _was_ the damsel… just not in distress. "A year it is then. We'll declare it tomorrow. How about you get Cyrun?"

After one last kiss I agreed. I left him in the sitting chambers and went down the hall where I knew Cyrun was staying. I knocked lightly and when I got no response opened the door quietly. I was in the sitting room. I looked to my right. I peeked around the corner to see Cyrun asleep wrapped in a middle-aged man's arms. They seemed peaceful. I could see that the man had bandages around his chest and Cyrun's cheeks streaked with tears. I gently tapped her so as to wake Cyrun, but not her… lover? er… friend. She opened her eyes.

"Katharine?" She struggled to escape the man's arms, but she was secured. She saw I was perplexed about the man. "This is Bamien. Long story, don't ask."

I was curious, but I'll ask her later. "Lance and I are getting married in a year. I need you to help me to prepare."

"Oh, so Lance _is_ your fiancée?" I nodded. She grinned. "And I guess he knows your name, Katharine?" Yet again, I nodded. "Oh good." I saw Bamien's eyes flick and twitch… so did Cyrun "Oh… he's waking." She tried, once again in vain, to escape the man's arms, and awake he did. Cyrun nudged him. "Let me out." He yawned.

"Sure." He grinned and moved his arms. He then saw me. "This your friend, the _knight_?" Cyrun seemed to sense his tension. I spoke first.

"Well, _excuse me_. It's not my fault you have something against a knight. Even though I am a _lady_." I spat at him. Whoever he was, I didn't like him.

"Tell, little lady _knight_, how many dragons have you slain under your _lance_?" Cyrun, I saw and heard, tried to soothe him in a hissing language akin to snakes. It had an elegant air about it though. He said something to her and she did a _'humph'_. He turned back to me. "Tell me the truth, little knight."

"None. The one I attempted to slay ended up healing and had you little beau there enslaved! He had my fiancée captive!" I said, totally unprepared for his accusing tone. "He took her Draco- something or other!" Cyrun's eyes watered at the mention of Asnorenith whatever his name was. This appeared to change Bamien's attitude.

"What was his name?" Cyrun took the liberty of entering the conversation.

"Ansarninith. The same who took… yours." At this, she got out of the bed, fully clothed. This, I know, should've taken me by surprise. But, it didn't. Why should I think Cyrun so immoral? Maybe this man, but not my friend. And savior. "Katharine, we need to talk to Lance." She walked out, leaving Bamien in the bed and me in the chair.

"I want you to know one thing. Cyrun is my friend. Since she has no parents, if you want to pursue a courting, in her parent's stead, Lance and I will substitute. If you want to court her, speak to us. Understood?"

"Yes, _knight_." He still seemed to have something against me, but what, I didn't know. "I want you to know one thing. She is a grown woman, older than you. You have no right to be her parent. She can decide who will 'court' her, not you." He mocked. "Understood?"

I had already reached the door. "I'm sorry, _man_. I seemed to have heard a ruckus outside. You may want to stay in that bed, your chest looks hurt." With that, I left. It felt odd to be so rude to someone. Who was he to tell me what to do? I was above him. A noble and betrothed to the prince! For heaven's sake, I was a _knight_! I pushed the egotistical thoughts away. Cyrun sat outside the door, clothed in a light summer dress. "Come on. Where did you want to go?"

"Do you know what he went through?" She asked. Oookkkaaayyy. That was random.

"No, should I?" I asked. This was _very_ random.

"He was a dragon, of the highest caliber. Then, Asnarinith came to slay him, like so many knights. Just as he was about to kill him, I came into the time he was in and saved him. I've been healing him. Don't you see? He hates knights for the same reason I almost hated you. His Draconsis was taken like mine. By the same man, or dragon now." So, that was the reason he had an unreasonable hatred for me?

"I want you to help me prepare for the wedding." I said, deftly changing the topic.

"Why a year?" She asked after I had explained.

"Because." I said slyly. "If he can wait a year from today, then he loves me." I said, grinning. This was the most cunning thing I had even done. "If he can wait one year being betrothed to me, then he will love me the rest of my life."

"So, this is a test of faith?" Cyrun asked, confused.

"Not so, more a tradition. In most fairy tales, the bridegroom is told he must wait for so long. So, I'm just keeping with tradition!" I said, happy with my reasoning. I skipped around the hall. "Plus, imagine. We have a year to spread the news. If it was a few days, then the far away nobles wouldn't be able to come!" Cyrun nodded. "Now, to the royal seamstress!" I lead the way, partly by luck, partly because I had passed it on the way to Cyrun's quarters.

**To my readers (and reviewers!),**

**Sorry this is so short. I've been working on it for a while. It's a slow chapter. Nothing really happened. I had to let Katharine in on the secret sometime. I thought Cyrun would break down, she _is_ still stressed about letting down her barriers around Bamien, and tell her because right now, Katharine and Bamien are having a rocky starting friendship (or good starting hatred). I think I'll kill off Lance… bwhahaha… not. I like him too much. He's a cool guy. I'll have to think up a plot to do while Lance waits his year (c'mon pity the poor guy!) So, buh-bye, later folks!**

**Nixie.**

**P.S. See the drop-down menu? It's set at Review. Click the 'go' button! Thanks!**


	11. Asnarinith and Ilona

**Nixiesocean: Guess what? Yes! I am putting up a chapter 11! Like my other story, this is the second story to make it past 10 chapters! Yay for me! Yay for you::Wink, wink: You knew I could've just ended this story at Lance and Katharine getting married? Aren't you little reviewers and fans lucky? I'm such a nice writer. :Wink, wink: In any case… read this chapter and review for it too!**

_Chapter 11: Asnarinith and Ilona._

Cyrun and I raced off to the royal sewer's quarters, eager to see the latest fashions. I think she came because I was her friend, not because she wanted to moon over expensive fabrics. On our way over, I saw a man staggering down the hall.

"Princess!" Wow, they wanted to refer to me as a royal already? I am certainly impressed. "Princess! Where is Prince Lance? We need Sir Eric to combat this dragon!" Wow, they needed Sir Eric the Merciful? I'm flattered. I nodded to Cyrun and we ran off "to find Lance" when in truth we rushed off to get me armored. We quickly (as quickly as you could armor-up full-plate) got me into my armor and rushed out, me clanking down the halls, my metal boots echoing over the marble. I told her to get Swift armored while I got lances. I was handed many lances and I gave them to an awaiting page.

"I'll come charging when I need a new one." I told the scared page. I looked over my shoulder to where his eyes were staring. Over the balcony, I saw a large red shape flapping its wings. I silently cursed, knowing whom this dragon was. I drew Goldflame, who I had forgotten about for the last couple hours, and spoke to her.

_I need you to be deadly, Goldflame. Deadly to dragons…_ I knew this one of her mysterious powers. To be able to be a bane-like weapon to a requested type of being, I never used it because of its deadliness. I needed her to be deadly now.

_Yes, Mistress._ She sheathed herself in a green fire. _I am ready._

I mounted the now armored Swift and checked my lowered visor. I left the city gates, met by a shivering crowd. They tried to cheer themselves up, but I guess they thought I was meeting my death. Which, in retrospect, I probably was. I rode out to the field where I wanted to do battle. It probably wasn't the best idea, but I was mounted. I couldn't very well risk the safety of the capital city, my fiancée and my best friend could I?

"Asnarinith!" I yelled to the red dragon. "I call you to do battle!" He turned his massive head to me.

"You? A little human? You a woman? Lady Knight, I come not to do battle, but to claim my prize!" He roared. "Your king promised a reward if I capturedyour little prince. I demand my reward!" I blanched behind my helm. The king had ordered the abduction of his son? To what effect? What would the king gain by having his son kidnapped…? Realization hit me. It was deal between my father and the king to get their reluctant offspring together. The king knew I was female, my father knew Lance would be kidnapped! I cursed both parents under my breath. They were back-stabbing parents, is what they were.

"What reward is that, Sir Dragon?" I didn't want to parlay with an evil dragon that had enslaved my friend, but I couldn't kill the damn thing. He was about a hundred times my size. So, what else could I do?

"I have my reward from _that_ deal. I want the other one. He said I could have _anything_ I wanted." Again, I was taken aback at the king's willingness to deal with such an evil dragon. He was so unlike Cyrun that I wondered how she got herself enslaved by him.

"And _what_, pray tell, do you desire?" I asked, my patience wearing thin.

"I want the eldest princess of his line. I want her." I silently cursed. Why hadn't I seen that coming?

"You desire Princess Ilona as your consort?" I asked while clarifying which princess he wanted.

"Stop delaying, _Katharine_!" How did he know my name? I never told Cyrun… maybe the king told him. That idiot!

"I'm not delaying, _Ansarinith_." I mocked. I was testing his limits; I knew it. His face, if at all possible, got redder from anger. "I'm _clarifying._" In any case, I was just egging him into a fight.

"Go _get _the princess, bring her here and I shall be on my way, with _her_ in tow!" He yelled. He ended with a loud roar to accentuate his point. I grumbled and turned Swift around, heading back to the capital.

_You are not going to let him does this are you?_ Goldflame interjected into my troubled mind.

_No. I am not. But I need to find a safer way to get rid of him._ I responded. _But how? The king will not willingly give up one of his daughters. Even though he has three._

_Perhaps we should go back to how you saved Lance… _Goldflame suggested. _Have the king hold a contest and whoever saves the princess may marry her._

_Goldflame, you're a genius! _I said mind-to-mind gleefully. I cantered to the city gates, past all the crestfallen faces at their disappointment that I hadn't killed the dragon. I slowed up when I reached the battlements, complete with Lance, Cyrun, Bamien, King Clem and his wife. I dismounted and charged up the steep stairs, never missing a step. I reached King Clem.

"The dragon wishes to claim his reward, my king. _The_ reward." I drew up my faceplate. He knew I knew what the dragon meant. However, the other four people present were totally confused.

"And what is it he requests?" The king was not flustered. He looked me in the eyes.

"Princess Ilona." I said simply. Lance was angry.

"What right does this scum have to take my sister?" He demanded.

I pretended to act air headed. "Oh? You mean you were tricked too? Didn't you know that your _dear_ father _paid_ that dragon to abduct you?" Clem was angry that I had revealed his secret, but being beloved by the heir protected me in a way.

"He what?" Lancce screeched. Cyrun and Bamien conversed in their hissing language and left the scene along with the queen.

"Now, son," The king started. "I did it-"

"You listen to me, _father_." Lance hissed. "I was abused by that _thing_. Katharine nearly died, Cyrun was enslaved." He took a step forward. "What do you have to say about _that_?"

"I didn't know he was so evil. You were so thickheaded," I decided to keep quiet about that, since I wasn't the princess yet. "And I heard from Lord Nett that Lady Katharine was just as stubborn. Why does it matter, you "love" each other now."

"What _matters_?" Lance shrieked. "My sister _will not_ be given to that sorry excuse for a dragon!" I came up next to my love.

"Lance," I said, holding his hand. "I have an idea, really Goldflame's, but it's a joint idea." The king nodded, as if understanding who Goldflame was. "We allow the princess to be "taken away"." I mimicked the quote-sign in the air. Before they could protest, I continued. "But, you, as king, will hold a contest. Whoever safely returns the princess to you may marry her." I smiled with that and gestured for the king or Lance to object.

"Any man?" He asked, the king that is. "_Any_ man who saves her may marry her?" He yelled. "What if he's a commoner? I won't have my line tainted!"

"Would you rather have hers ended?" I asked pointedly. He sighed.

"Lance, do you have any objections?" He said, resigned.

"None." He gripped my hand. "We need to inform Ilona of the plan." He said simply.

"No." I whispered. "She needn't know. We need her to love her future husband. If we don't tell her she is bound to marry him, she has a higher chance of falling for him." I explained.

"Kind of like us?" Lance said, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Exactly like us." I said devilishly.

"I'll tell her to get on her most beautiful dress and meet Sir Eric outside the palace." Lance said, resigned. He left his betrothed and his father to their devices.

"If I may speak my mind…?" I asked him, reverting to the military ways I knew best.

"You need not ask, beloved of my son." He said.

"You do realize how much in danger you put Lance and I? I nearly died because an assassin tried to kill him. I took his arrow." I explained. "Did you send that bowman?"

"No, Lady Katharine. I did not. I have no idea why Lance would be a target." Then, he felt the crown that weighed on his head. "He's the Crown Prince, if that's what you mean."

"It is, my lord. We have an unseen enemy more dangerous than Asnarinith. He is a dragon only wanting beautiful women for company. This new threat can slip under the defenses of the cities and sew dissent among the common folk. They may rebel, putting you and your extended family at risk." I said. "We may need to contact our neighbors to inform them of such a threat."

"Which neighbor do you suggest, Lady Katharine?" I was taken aback. The king was asking me, _me!_, for advice?

"We need to contact the king and queen of Auszin." I said. "Their eldest daughter is away on a diplomatic mission right now. We may be able to get the next in line, Prince Brennin, to come to our aid."

"How?" He asked. It was then that I realized how much Lance's father relied on his advisors.

"We need to send them a missive. Inform them of a threat to the throne of Furde." I said as carefully as I could.

**Nixiesocean: Bwhahaha! Bet you didn't think this would take place in the same world, didja? Well, blah. I need to go work on the sister story, _The Fatal Mistake_.**

**P.S. Sorry this chappie is so short, I wanted a cliffie, but I couldn't fit anything else in. Also, if I extend this, the chapter name is harder to come up with. (:wink:)**


	12. The Great Princess Rescue

**Nixiesocean: Hi! I'm baack! Okay, now, read this chapter! Yes, it may be short, but no, I am not getting lazy!**

_Chapter 12: The Great Princess Rescue_

So, here I am, being a scribe for the king of Furde. He speaks, and I write. Seriously, how long does it take a princess to get ready to given to a dragon for heaven's sake! Oh, he's talking, I better keep writing.

"We'll start from here, Lady Katharine." The King said.

"_To the King and Queen of Auszin and Guen,_

_We, in the country of Furde are pressed with a threat. An assassination attempt on our heir and only son has caused us to send you this missive. Our next in line, Princess Ilona, must be given to the local dragon threat, Asnarinith. As you know, the last two in the family are too young to assume the throne. We ask, in a gesture of honor, that you send your next in line, Prince Brennin. As we have heard, he has a knack for finding out things. Please, send him._

_Signed,_

_The King of Furde._"

"Sounds good." I reply. "I'll have it sent immediately. Here, my lord, put your seal here." Just as he was stamping his seal on the letter, the princess came around the corner with my fiancée. Her cheeks were wet from tears and bowed to me. Did everyone know me as a female knight? "Come along, Princess Ilona." I said. "We have a white mare readied for you."

"Tell me this first, am I fallout person for your favored son?" She had tears in her eyes as she said this, having one slip down her peach cheek.

"Yes." The king, my soon-to-be father-in-law, said. "He will take the throne, what good are you? You are a doll, to be given away at my will." The princess nodded and turned to me, biting her lip to keep it from quivering.

Suddenly, I didn't want Prince Brennin to come. I didn't want him to see the rude man that was the king. "Come." I said, holding her hand. We left. I helped her mount. "Princess, I have to tell you this. My father wasn't any better. Don't be sour." I said as we headed out. "Heck, I hated Lance when we first met. Yet, you see me now, engaged to a man I hated. Don't be bitter. You'll be back soon." I patted her back and we rode in silence until we were outside the city.

"My only question is, why do the princess of other countries seem to have everything go their way? Queen Ditri was in love with, at that time, Prince Perhin's valet. Yet, it turned out that her lover was in face the twin of the prince. She had a happy ending. What can I do to have that ending?"

"I don't know, maybe its just luck. After all, I almost died saving your brother." I said jokingly. She didn't laugh. I didn't bother to mention Cyrun. That would only make the princess more distressed. We approached the vile dragon that demanded my fiancée's sister. "Asnarinith!" I called. The red dragon bent down to see his prize.

"Is this the princess?" His low-throated growl permeated my eardrums. "If it isn't, Katharine, I will have your hide."

"I have no hide, _dragon_." I spat at the dragon. Then I turned to the lady next to me. "Princess Ilona, acknowledge who you are."

"I am a princess. Ilona is my name." She said monotonously.

"Good." The dragon rumbled. "Good."

I was about to turn away when I remembered something. "Asnarinith, she better still be a virgin when she is claimed." I threatened.

"And I suppose a noble knight like yourself will save her from her _dreadful_ fate?" He laughed.

"Not I. But another." I smiled. "After all, she _is_ a _princess_." I galloped away.

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"Why did you make me leave, Bamien?" Cyrun demanded. "I have a right to be there, to support my friends!"

"Cyrun, they have to sort out their own problems." He said. "We dragons-"

"Don't you get it? _We are not dragons_!" She screeched. "We are _humans_. We have to help others with their problems, if not, they become _our problems_!"

"Please. No matter how you change your shape, you are a dragon inside. You can speak like one, you can act like one and you can think like one. Cyrun, on the inside, you _are a dragon_!" It was then that she noticed how close Bamien was. They were in her rooms, yet now they seemed to share them. He was close. She could feel his breath, ever so faintly on her cheeks. Tears were in her eyes. "Don't cry, Cyrun. Please, forget this fight ever happened." He brushed her cheek with his fingers. A tear escaped her eye and he brushed it away with his finger.

"Bamien," She whispered. She reached out and put her arms around his neck and leaned it for a kiss. His lips touched hers and she felt like nothing mattered. As long as he held her right here, nothing bad could go wrong. She was breathless from the kiss. Her stomach felt like a hundred butterflies were contained in it. "Will you forgive me?"

He didn't know what she meant. "For what?"

"This." She leaned in for another kiss, releasing quickly and applying another.

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"You need to make the announcement. Prince Brennin will be here in just a few hours." I hurried. "If not, I'll have Lance make it!" he heard my threat and shook his head.

"I can't," He replied. "I can't condemn her to a life with a man she hates."

I was amazed at the state of this man. He was so sure he didn't care about his daughter, yet here he was, trying not to condemn her.

"And yet, Lance almost was. What if we had never fallen in love?" I demanded. "What then? Then Lance and I would've been wed, despite our hatred." I said, taking hold of he king's hand. "Then, what? Then, we would have lived together, hating each other for the parent's mistake."

"Father, I used to read to Ilona. She believes in fairy tales. She believes that lone-at-first-sight can happen! Make the announcement!" He took a threatening step to the curtain that blocked the crowd from the royal family. The king shook his head.

"I can't." He said. Lance, tired with all this, stepped between the curtains. We heard his voice through the fabric.

"Citizens! As you know, the dragon Asnarinith has claimed the Princess Ilona, our beloved Ilona, as his prize! In one weeks' time, a great hunt will ensue! The first man to bring back the princess unharmed will be able to claim her as his bride! Should the man that rescued her die along the way back, the man that has done the killing her may pick her up and continue on his way, with the princess!" A great cheer was a response. "There is one rule to this Great Princess Rescue!" The crowd was silent. "If you have a wife, you may not participate, lastly, one may not win the princess for another man!" Another cheer.

Lance reappeared inside our area. We nodded and left, knowing how terrible the princess would take this.


	13. Affirmations and Conclusions

**Nixiesocean: Yes! I am updating (can I have a couple claps?) for _Lady-in-Shining-Armor_! I had a _major_ (major, major) writers' block. If you have a problem with that, take it up with my brain and its fingers. Seriously, I swear they have a mind of their own!**

**Anyways. An update! (Be grateful!) I may be adding a story about the princess and the man (maybe knight, maybe commoner) that rescues her sorry butt.**

**Any questions? (looks through a stack of papers and pull out a sheet) Ah, there they are.**

**_Sera dy Relandrant_: Aww, I'm so flattered! Thanks!**

**_Me_: uh…okay… riiight…**

_Chapter 13: Affirmations and Conclusions_

The Prince of Auszin and Guen, Prince Brennin, arrived in our capital just after the Hunt had started. Lance and I were there to greet him; after all, Auszin and Guen shouldn't be slighted! Lance wore his livery, which I won't bother to mention. He had, very forcefully I might add, made me dress in a _dress_ of all things!

"Welcome to Furde, Prince Brennin." I said politely. Lance nodded and stepped forward to open his carriage door.

"Thank you, Lady Katharine. Prince Lance, thank you." The Prince of Auszin and Guen replied.

"You are welcome, Prince Brennin." Lance said. "I hope your ride was comfortable?" Who was this man? He had not acted so, well, _princely_ in a long time.

"It was, Crown Prince Lance." He smiled.

"Would you like to take a rest so soon after your journey?" I asked through a smile. Lance wouldn't have to worry about my loyalty. Prince Brennin, I knew, wasn't here for a marriage.

"I would, thank you." He smiled; there were no traces of flirting in it. He had probably been warned about my soon-to-be-marriage. We walked inside.

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Cyrun opened her eyes. It was dark. Had night come so swiftly? She had missed Prince Brennin! She was about to get out of bed when she felt a hand on her pull her back in. After all, she _could_ wait until tomorrow… She rolled over and kissed Bamien's forehead. She curled into the hollow she had been sleeping in ever so recently. Before she went to sleep, she felt Bamien curl his arms around her protectively. Comforted, she slept soundly until movement roused her again. Bamien was about to get out of the bed, though it was _still_ dark! She opened her eyes and wrapped both arms around his chest, gently tugging.

"Let go, Cyrun." He whispered. She couldn't. She wouldn't. "Please."

"No." She murmured into his well-muscled shoulder.

"Please?" He pleaded.

"Where do you plan on going, _dolos_?" She felt his muscles tighten at the Draconic word. She put my head over her shoulder and gently kissed his cheek. She tugged again, trying to pull him back under the warmer covers.

"The privy, _dalas_." He replied. Cyrun let him go, but not without another kiss on the cheek. She slid back under the covers; enjoying the warmth it gave her. He came back shortly. He kissed her lips before crawling under the sheets. We closed our eyes and our hearts beat together, lulling her into sleep.

_-Bamien's POV-_

He couldn't believe his ears, Cyrun, _his_ Cyrun, had called him a _dolos_. And yet, without knowing it, he had called her a _dalas_. Her warm body was a comfort. He was glad she hadn't noticed the blinds being drawn shut to keep her from running around. He wanted to hold her for so long. Not long after she fell into a dreamless sleep, he, too, was lulled into a sleep.

_He awoke, Cyrun still in his arms. This time, instead of the bed, they were on a stack of cushions, rich and gold-threaded. They were under a silk sheet and surrounded by a sheer veil to conceal their shared bed. The veil had small gems that sparkled in the false light. As he looked around, they were in a cave. The stacks of gold and riches around them only proved his suspicions._

_Cyrun awoke. "Bamien?" She asked, still sleepy. She pressed her lips onto his and_- he awoke. Cyrun was still over him, her face still close.

He put his arms around her neck, pulling her face back onto his. Gods! How did he come to love her so much?

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I walked next to my fiancée, Katharine. Her midnight black hair swayed back and forth like a waterfall of dark liquid. The more I look back on our meeting, the more I was glad we had met, even if we had been conspired against. Her hand was in mine, the golden ring gracefully cool against my fingers. It wasn't a gaudy ring, I noticed for the millionth time, merely a simple golden band with a small gem. I had been almost a day; I could tell Katharine was worried for her future sister-in-law, though she tried to deny it.

We were meeting Prince Brennin at a small garden-party. Conveniently, Cyrun's rooms were on the way. "Hey, Lance, I'm going to get Cyrun, she may want to come along." Katharine said lightly. I nodded. She brushed my lips and walked away, her green dress swaying as she walked. I didn't have to ask anymore, she knew I loved her in a dress.

I kept walking toward the gardens. Prince Brennin was there, awaiting my arrival. I knew as well as he that I stood higher on the social ladder; I was a Crown Prince rather than a normal prince. What a shame. Not.

"Good Morning, Crown Prince Lance." He bowed. I clapped in shoulder in a un-prince-like gesture.

"Prince Brennin, we're in the same boat here. Lance is just fine between us." He nodded, _very formal,_ I noted.

"If I am to call you Lance then I insist on Brennin." He said quietly.

"Agreed." I smiled. For once, I might have a friend that didn't bow every two seconds, except, of course, Katharine. My Katharine.

"You called me here… Lance?" He asked, getting down to business. I sat, gesturing for him to sit also.

"I did indeed." I said seriously. "As you know," I looked around. "Of the _problem_ we're having."

"Yes, I do." He smiled. "That's why I'm here. But I confess, if it is just an assassin problem, could you not take care of it yourself?"

"The _problem_," I stressed, hoping he got the hint. "Is that our family is well loved among the people, and have been, since our dynasty began. Now, we have an issue. Someone tried to kill me after I was captured by the dragon."

"So… the _problem_ is an unusual occurrence?" He asked dubiously. "Even we had problems with my parents taking the throne…"

"You did?" Of course, this had been information kept silent for obvious reasons. If the monarchs were concerned, the nations went into a state of disarray.

"I overheard my parents. Apparently, my father's twin tried to kill them the day they took the throne." He admitted. I nodded. "He wasn't found in Auszin or Guen. We got word, though, that he re-appeared… in Auldn. With my sister." This time, he was _very_ concerned. Apparently he and his older sister were close. I knew the feeling; Ilona and I were close as well. I wanted her back dearly. "I'm thinking my uncle is trying to claim a throne to start a war between our countries." He declared.

I was silent. How could I say that our throne was secure? I was engaged to a country-renowned knight. Ilona was safe with the dragon that… my mind jumped to a conclusion. "Are you thinking that Asnarinith and your uncle are in league with one another?" I asked, wide-eyed.

He nodded yet again. At this moment, my soon-to-be-wife and her best friend chose to appear. I smiled and greeted them. Cyrun gracefully bowed, her silver hair never leaving the graceful place on her scalp. They sat, Katharine slightly closer than the normal distance. Brennin bowed to both women. We brought them up-to-date. Cyrun was furious when I mentioned her old master and Katharine was merely plain-faced, not letting the anger that showed in her eyes erupt into a full-scale temper like her friend,

"That good-for-nothing man-gone-dragon!" Cyrun cursed in her hissing language, or what I guessed was cursing from the way she spat it out. "He is a betrayal to the race of dragons!" She shook her head. "To be in league with such a foul man!"

Katharine touched her friend's shoulder. They made eye contact. Cyrun sat. "I am of the opinion that your uncle is going to have a wife very soon." She stated.

I stared at my fiancée. Did she say what I thought she said? "Katharine, are you implying that I set up my sister to be married to _his_," I pointed at Brennin, who was deep in thought, I doubt he noticed the impolite gesture. "_Uncle_?"

"Yes," She said seriously. "I think your," She was talking to Brennin, who barely noticed, again. "Uncle is going to pose as a knight to rescue Lance's sister and marry her, like the decree said."

"An effective way to infiltrate the royal family." Cyrun noted. "All, then, that would be left would be to get rid of Lance. Since you two aren't married, the marriage proposal would simply be void." How in the world did Cyrun know so much about court and laws?

"I believe Lady Cyrun is right, Lance." Brennin said, startling us all. "All that would be left would be to kill you. He tried it once when you were with Lady Katharine in the woods." He didn't add a derogatory tone to that fact like many men would. "That time, however, he failed. He hadn't counted on Lady Katharine being loyal to her soon-to-be monarch." I didn't mention she had fallen (almost) head-over-heels, nor did she. She reached out a comforting hand. I grasped it.

"Sometime between his bringing back Princess Ilona and your marriage, he _will_ strike in desperation. It is possible he himself will put a dagger in your back."

We were all silent after such a statement.


	14. The Ruler of the Isle

**Nixiesocean: This is an improvement. School is busy, big surprise, so I'm updating pretty slow… forgive me! I'll switch back to Fatal Mistake, maybe next month. Questions?**

**Oh wait. There aren't any… oh well. Guess you guys can read my story faster.**

**Yes. This chapter is short but chocked (chocked!) full of important information for you to digest.**

_Chapter 14: The Ruler of the Isle_

"How can you be sure, Brennin?" I asked.

He turned to me, a lady knight. "If he's anything like my father, I'm not insulting him, my father that is, I'm just saying that twins often resemble each other. I'm not implying that my father would stab anyone in the back. I'm only saying that my uncle is half-crazy or wholly crazy, and _would_ strike someone is desperation." Wow. He spoke all that?

"Hum." Cyrun said, peering into the garden's hedges. "How can we take care of Asnarinith? Bamien and I are useless, human as we are." She added sadly. "I'm sure there are still silver dragons out there somewhere."

"What about the Amazons?" Lance asked suddenly. "They could help, I'm sure."

"Too reclusive." Brennin objected. "They'd need to be in danger themselves to be drawn into fighting anything."

"They will be! I'm sure a madman with a red dragon wouldn't stop at three thrones!" I said, passion covering my voice. "They _have_ to help. Queen Hippolyta would be in danger, as a monarch."

"I thought she was dead." Cyrun said dryly. "She died a year or two back."

Lance breathed deeply. "She's right." He said somberly. "Queen Hippolyta was the fiery one of the group."

"What about her daughter?" Brennin asked. "Didn't she have one?"

"Yeah, Crei disappeared…" Lance added. The three people at the table looked at me. "Eighteen years ago." He added.

"What?" I asked, sometimes I let my mind wander…

"Crei." Cyrun repeated.

"Yeah, so maybe I have a similar middle name, who gives a crap?" I asked, angry that everyone expected me to know everything. I was a noble, not a princess… yet…

"What was your _mother's_ name, Katharine?" Lance probed.

"Crei…" I said slowly, everything dawning on me. "Are you saying I'm the missing princess?"

"No," Brennin said. I sighed. I was relieved. I didn't want to be royal, least not until I had a ring on my finger. "Your mother was."

"_My_ mother…" I said incredulously. "Was an Amazon princess?" I laughed aloud. "She was _anything_ but an Amazon!"

"How would you know?" Lance pointed out. "All you know is she bore you and died."

I stood up and left, my temper overriding common sense. I _didn't_ know my mother. I _didn't_ know if she was an Amazon or not. There was one way to find out. Father.

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Breathing deeply. They continued their conversation. "What do we know about Princess Crei?" Lance continued.

"She disappeared about eighteen years ago. Hippolyta was torn that her daughter would leave the Isle of the Amazons." Cyrun said, dredging up the memories. _She had been flying over the Isle when she had heard the cries of anguish. She had landed, turning into a small animal native to the Isle. She had crept up upon the mourning Amazons. A woman with midnight-raven-like hair stood out. Her silver and gold jewelry with a small tiara made her stand out amongst the other weeping women. Cyrun listened intently, using her magics to understand the elegant, flowing language._

_"Tonight, my fellow Amazons, we mourn the loss of our sister-in-arms." The Queen spoke softly. "Crei was the best Arms woman among us all. She had been Arms Mistress since birth." Tears flowed down her fair cheeks. "The Great Warrior Goddess has taken her from our safe Isle." The Queen spoke with passion. "Yet, though we mourn the loss of our next monarch, the Great Warrior Goddess has gifted us with a new monarch." She said. No one cheered. "Crei, though a beautiful child, wasn't the only child I bore so many years ago." Man gasps were heard. The monarch of the Isle of the Amazons breathed deeply and spoke. "The midwife that helped me bear my children, as you know, threw herself off the rocks and to her death just after the birth of my child." The crowd was nodding. "Eric too was born that night." More gasps, since Eric was not an Amazon name. From behind the stone the monarch stood in front of, a man stepped out. Outrage was heard among the women. "SILENCE!" The fiery monarch called. "Eric is as much a fighter as the rest of you!"_

_"The Great Warrior Goddess has cursed us!" One woman called into the night sky._

_"No man will rule us!" Another shouted._

_"We are a race of women!"_

_"We don't need men!"_

_"I do believe, sisters-in-arms." The Queen called over the ruckus. "That we _need_ men to keep this Isle alive!"_

_The man, who looked so much like his mother, spoke loudly. Surprisingly, the women silenced._

_"I know I am no female. I don't intend to hold the throne. The next time a ship comes, I will leave. The woman who bears my child may rule after my mother." He said. "I have to look for my sister." He bowed and left. Cyrun had followed Eric, curious, as all dragons are._

_He went out to a small peninsula. "Great Warrior Goddess." He prayed. "All I ask is for your divine winds to send a ship quickly. I must leave, to find my sister. She is needed back here. Please, send one."_

_The Queen, Queen Hippolyta, came up behind her son. "I'm sorry, Eric. I never meant for this to happen."_

_"Mother, I have to leave. I was robbed of a childhood, of playing and wrestling with other boys. I must leave. I only pray that no other male would have to endure such a curse as I have. Pick a woman for me Mother. Then, I will lie wither her. I will leave quickly. I feel a calling over the sea." He stood._

_At that moment, a whipping wind encased both the mother and son. The wind trailed around until it encased Cyrun too. It forced her into a human form._

_A motherly voice called over the three of them. "I have chosen your woman, Beloved Eric of the Isle." It somehow incorporated a motherly tone with a warrior's commanding tone. "She will bear the child that will rule after my Chosen." Both Eric and his Mother stared at her. Eric approached nervously. "Her name is-"_

"Cyrun?" Lance asked worriedly. "Are you okay?" She shook her head, to clear those memories.

"Y-yes." How could she tell them the current ruler of the Isle was her child? How could she explain to Katharine her cousin was the ruler of the Isle? How could she explain it to _Bamien_ for that matter?

"What's wrong?" Lance asked.

"A-a memory. Too old, yet too recent." She commented cryptically.

"Memories are indeed dangerous." Brennin commented. "What was is of?"

Here it was. She could lie; say it wasn't anything important. _Or,_ she could tell the truth and rally the Amazons to fight. The only sadness would be the loss of trust from Katharine and Bamien. I breathed deeply and spoke.

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"So _she_ was an Amazon?" I asked, outraged. "_And you never told me_?"

"Your mother told me not to. She feared you would back to the Isle. She spoke of a twin sometimes. Never much." Lord Rothloz said quietly. He had to soothe his daughter who resembled her mother in looks and temperament.

"A twin? Like an Aunt? Does _she_ rule the Isle now?"

"No. She never said anything except she wished her twin safety. I don't know anything more." He sighed sadly.

I stormed out, furious. I went back to the garden. Just as I was about to round the corner, I heard voices talking the garden. Cyrun was explaining something.

"Please, don't tell her. She'll hate me for sure." Who was she?

"She has to know, Cyrun." Lance replied.

"It _is_ her cousin." Brennin commented softly.

"Who's my cousin?" I asked lightly as I entered the garden. I turned to Lance, feigning happiness. "Oh, and good news. It turns out my mother really was an Amazon and really am Amazon royalty!" I said sarcastically. "How happy for me!"

"Katharine…" Lance said, glancing at Cyrun.

She breathed deeply and spoke too quickly. "Yourmother'stwinliedwithmeandnowtheAmazonrulerisaccuallyyourcousin."

"In common please?" I asked, not even understanding the gibberish she spat out.

"In short, Cyrun's child is the ruler of the Isle right now. Your mother's twin was actually a male and the Great Warrior Goddess called her to the Isle to bear the child."

I fainted. Normally, being a warrior, I wouldn't. But you know, once in a blue moon a warrior has to feint.

**Afternote: For those of you reading Isle of the Amazons, this is not the same Queen. They loved the name so much they take it when they are crowned. Queen Hippolyta in IotA is NOT the same as LiSA. Whew.**

**-Dodges anything readers try to throw-**

**-Hides behind a leaf-**

**Five reviews please…?**


	15. Eric

**Nixiesocean: So sorry! I'm in love with Isle of the Amazons! I simply _love_ the story! So sue me… :sigh:. I'll get on it right away. I want seven (7) reviews before I update again though!**

**_Scoutcraft Piratess_: Wow. Cool! I'm glad I enticed you to read more of my story!**

**_Narnialover_: Love it, eh?**

**_ladyverde88_: I'm updating! Keep those stones away!**

**_HelleBelle_: I love flipping cliché's! They're so, well, cliché-ish.**

**_Kitty-Kat_: Aww, thanks! I hope Katharine is still okay for you. I love thumbs up. It makes me warm and fuzzy inside!... not….**

**Finally!**

**I give you the glorious…**

_Chapter 15: Eric_

I groggily opened my eyes. I saw my room. I tried to review why I was in my room during the daytime. It hurt. I couldn't focus on anything. When I tried, I felt sick. I breathed deeply. I knew what I had. I had knocked my head on something _extremely_ hard. The floor? A pole? The wall? Someone's sword? That's when a blurry figure came over. I recognized a long, silver river coming off a peachy pool with black smudges and a red smudge; someone's face. Cyrun's! I tried to speak. An oval crossed my distorted vision. I felt pressure on my lips and realized it was a finger.

"Hush," Her soothing voice said. "You're a bit sick. It was hard fall you took."

I nodded sleepily and she worked the kinks out of my calves and the soles of my feet. Eventually, I lost my grip of consciousness and fell into a blackness.

I reopened my eyes. It was darker, probably sunset or so. My vision was clearer, but my head still throbbed. I had a _major_ headache. Then I remembered the concussion, I remembered Cyrun. She was there, her hair no longer one river flowing from her scalp; I could now make out vague lines that separated the strands of hair. She smiled.

"You're awake again, that's good." She whispered. "I hadn't thought that garden-stone so hard!" She commented, giggly lightly to herself. "Your rooms are nice. Then again, I'd except the _fiancée_ of the prince to have nice rooms, even for a year."

Fiancée? I thought hard. That hurt, so I stopped. I opened my mouth, attempting to form words. She stopped me. "I demanded to watch over you, those royal physicians can be a _royal_ pain!" She laughed good-heartedly. "Oh, well. I suppose Lance'll want to know your up." She stood gracefully. I smiled. Lance? When she left, another person came in, a man. I recognized him. He was Prince Lance of Furde. My fiancée.

"Hey," He said, coming closer. "Cyrun said you were up. You feeling better?" There was something both of them weren't mentioning. Like, why had I fell in the garden? They were hiding something. But what? I nodded. I could barely move my head without getting nauseous.

He sat, reaching out a hand to clasp mine. "That's good. I might have some builders remove those stones! To be out for two days!" Two days? As in forty-eight hours? He saw my surprised face. "Yes, two days, Katharine." My name. Katharine. Lady Katharine Rothloz. "Do you remember anything?" He was anxious. I shook my head. I then stopped. That too made me ill. "I see." He replied. He patted my hand; he then stood. Lance, my beloved Lance, leaned over and kissed my forehead. I slipped out of consciousness. I fell asleep before he had even left the room.

I awoke and stretched. I sat up far too quickly. The blood rushed to my head, making me dizzy. Sunlight streamed through the open windows. Cyrun smiled from across the room. I yawned. My limbs buzzed with energy. I wanted to jump out of bed a run laps around the palace! Cyrun, such a sweet soul, came over. She cupped her hand over my lips and deemed me well-enough to leave my bed.

I slid out of bed carefully, making sure not so make myself collapse from lack of muscle. I cracked my back, feeling the warm carpet under my toes. I yawned again. "How long was I out?" I asked. I could form words!

"After Lance?" I nodded. "Only the night. That's good, since it's been three days; that was _quite_ a fall! Not even _I_ have been out _that_ long!" I smiled. At least I had broken _that_ record. "I heard talk about garden-stones. How did I get knocked out?"

"You fainted." She replied evasively. My vision was clearing; for that I was grateful. I reviewed what she had said. _Fainted_? Me? A warrior? _Faint_?

"Why?" I demanded. "I never faint."

She cleared her throat. I tapped my foot impatiently. She gulped and looked up, avoiding my eyes. "I- I," What _was_ her problem? "Your cousin is the ruler of Isle of the Amazons." I have a cousin? Oh, right. My mother had a twin, that twin must've had a child, making her child my cousin… but _why_ would my cousin rule that Isle?

"And that made me faint?" I asked dubiously. "Why would it?"

She bit her lip. "Uh- well… well… your uncle-"

"Uncle?" I asked. "I don't have an uncle on my mother's side. She had a twin."

"A _male_ twin." Cyrun corrected. A male twin? How? Amazons bore only women. Before I could speak, she continued. "I- It's my child too." She said quietly, almost inaudibly.

I gaped at her, my mouth hanging wide open. "_Your child_?"

"Er, yes." She said.

"So… what, you're my aunt?" I laughed. _Cyrun_, my aunt! The mere thought of it!

"Not technically." She said. "If I understand family trees, then I'd only be your aunt my marriage-"

"And you weren't married." I finished. "Great."

"I didn't have a choice!"

"Uh-huh. Who told you to go get in bed with my uncle, the _Great Warrior Goddess_?"

"Well, yes." She retorted.

"Why would a _goddess_ bother to speak to-" She was glaring at me. I stopped mid-sentence.

"_I_ don't know. _I_ didn't have a choice. _I_ was merely curious!" She said. "And don't go telling me that curiosity killed the cat!"

"I wasn't planning on it." I replied mildly. "Besides, satisfaction brought it back, Cyrun." She sighed.

"_Normal_ patients aren't this feisty the minute they get out of bed!" Oh, right. I was out of bed. My knees suddenly felt weak. I leaned back into a chair.

"_Normal_ patients didn't just get informed their friend bedded their uncle and their cousin is the ruler of a legendary Isle!"

Cyrun rolled her eyes. "If it makes you feel better, we've come up with a plan for saving Lance's sister."

"And it includes me, I can already tell." I said sarcastically. "Am I going on a diplomatic mission to the Isle of the Amazons?"

"Well, _yes_." Cyrun replied. "Come on, we need to talk to Lance. Get into a summer dress, its warm enough." I rolled but obliged. I picked out a "pretty" dress. It was a light shade of jade. I pulled out a pair of slippers; they matched the dress perfectly.

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I jumped up onto my feet. Katharine came out of her bedroom. She was dressed in a beautiful green dress. It accented her particularly _feminine_ aspects. Ones I tried to keep my eyes from lingering on. She smiled, her eyes betraying an odd mix of anger, frustration and sleepiness. Her midnight hair was brushed and shining. If I looked hard enough, I swore I could see small stars locked in her hair. I extended my hand for her to take. She took it, though I could feel the heavier-than-normal pressure, I said nothing. I lightly place a kiss on her forehead.

We sat on the peach-colored couch. The walls were plastered white with breath-taking views of nature. The light shone through the open windows, striking certain silver products and producing a wonderful spectrum of color on the walls. She leaned into my chest, sighing heavily. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her ever so lightly. Cyrun entered and coughed. It startled my fiancée and I out of our reverie. We both sat up straight. She was blushing. I decided I liked to see Katharine blush. It accented her eyes so well.

Cyrun took a seat on a chair by the bench; one Brennin had long abandoned. "So, Katharine, we'll need you to-" A resounding knock on the door interrupted her talk. We were in the waiting room, so someone knocking wasn't a surprise. I stood and went to go get the door, a gentlemanly thing to do.

I opened the door. There, in the doorway, stood a male image of Katharine. Silver streaks marked his similar hair color. "Is this Lady Katharine Rothloz's room?" He asked with a distinctly foreign accent.

"It is." I replied, suspicious. Who _was_ this? Was this Katharine's uncle? "Who are you?"

"I," He said sadly. "I am Eric of the Isle." He looked over my shoulder. "Who are you?"

"I am the Crown Prince of this country, Furde." I said indignantly. Who _wouldn't_ recognize me? After all, I made enough public appearances! "Katharine is my fiancée."

This Eric fellow wasn't at all surprised. "May I come in?"

Of course, Katharine had to speak. "Lance? Who is it?"

I sighed and opened the door so he could enter. Katharine's reaction was far worse than mine. "You look like me." She said. "Who are you?"

"I am Eric." He repeated. "You, are my niece." Of course, the old long-lost relative! I could've guessed. Cyrun was trying to leave. He approached her. "I recognized you." He said astonished. "You were the one on the Isle!"

"I was." She said nervously.

"Anyways," Katharine interjected. "Why are you here. I've lived eighteen _years_ of my life _without_ a mother _or_ an uncle. Why now? How do I know you're not lying?"

"Why now?" He mused aloud. "Because the only Crei I could find wasn't my sister. How, I told myself, could this girl have my sister's name? I have the answer. My niece. My sister had a daughter, like any Amazon, and it's you. Katharine Crei Rothloz."

"Riight." She replied, unconvinced. "So, your name is similar to the one I use to be a knight. So what? You're probably just some _random_ person trying to get money from the country by claiming to be my long-lost _uncle_!"

He cocked his head. "I've head that _Fr'ain_ are rude. But you, _niece_, far surpass anyone else."

"That's good." She said rashly. "Because I don't believe you're my uncle. If you want to prove it, name one way."

"Fine than, _Fr'ain_. I challenge you to a duel of Arms. Crei's strong suit." A _duel_? Gods! She just got of bed!

I said. "She won't." Just as Katharine said, "Fine!"

Katharine turned to me. "I _will_ duel him! I'm the best there is in all Furde!" I noticed Eric of the Isle narrow his eyes as she said this.

"_No_." I emphasized. "You _won't_! You just got out of bed!" Both of us turned to where Cyrun was supposed to be. She was gone. "Cyrun!" I yelled. No one answered. "_Fine_." I replied testily. "But if you faint or get hurt, I'll not be blamed for it."

"Deal." She turned to Eric. "Where and when?"

"Now, outside the palace." I heard him mutter something about being hardheaded.

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Cyrun squeezed her eyes shut _hard_. Something had triggered some very unpleasant memories… like the birth. She shook the memory from her head. When she opened her eyes, she stood in her own room… but how?

**Nixiesocean: And, alas, I leave you with a cliffie! How I love them! Review!**

**Remember: I want seven (7) reviews before I update again!**


	16. The Great Warrior Goddess

**Nixiesocean: So, I am _so_ happy to have so many reviewers! I have only about 1000 more reads in this story than my sister-story, _The Fatal Mistake_, at it has forty more reviews( :gasp: )!**

**Thank you all!**

**Onto responses:**

**_Scoutcraft Piratess_: Yeah, I tried too; make Eric likeable that is, though some parts, like Katharine, will _have_ to unlikable, especially by Katharine.**

**Agreed, family trees are a pain. My father's side has like twenty million cousin, second cousins, cousins-in-law et cetera.**

**_Rush of Waves_: Do you not like cliffies?**

**_Narnialover_: Thanks! There aren't enough little spaces to say what genre this story is, though I think of it as Humor/Romance/Drama/(Tiny bit of) Action/Adventure. It's not really General…**

**_Tamzi71_: Did you go to my profile and read all my stories? Not that I'm complaining… just wondering. Thanks, about Katharine's uncle. It was hard to find a way to introduce him. It's another cliché I wanted to break, or make fun of. It's always a "long-lost relative" and the main character immediately accepts and believes them, lavishes them with love, et cetera. See? Another cliché!**

**I'll stop chatting now. Read and Review, bitte…?**

_Chapter 16: The Great Warrior Goddess_

I gaped openly. I was vaguely aware that the crowd was whispering about me, Eric didn't move an inch. The female specter walked toward me, her feet not touching the ground. She had warrior garb, a spear in one hand, and the other open. She had a silver aura around her, one that was gentle, but commanding. She spoke in a tone like a warrior's, one expecting to be obeyed without question. Inlayed into her voice was another, softer tone. One that a mother may say to a child.

"_Katharine._" She said. She hadn't bothered to even say where I was from. "_Take your weapon from my servant,_" I was quick to move the sword. As she neared me, time slowed to a halt. "_None who are present will remember your vision, they need not_." I breathed deeply. How did she know me? Who was she? "_I am the Great Warrior Goddess, Katharine_." She responded to what my mind was thinking. She could read my mind! "_You are a daughter of an Amazon. Why not take you father's word for it? Crei wasn't suitable to rule the Isle, she was too hot-tempered, like her mother and you_."

"C-crei?" I stuttered. I never stuttered. "My mother?"

"_Yes, Katharine Crei Rothloz, your mother was the next in line for the throne of the Isle. Unfortunately, or so the Isle thought, I bestowed a wanderlust inside her. She left the Isle, much like Lilka will in two hundred years_." Two hundred years! She knew what was going to happen, even now! My mind raced. She knew if I would live or die, if I would marry Lance, how many children, if any, we'd have. She knows the heartbreak I'll have! It was all too much.

"Why? Why send this fake so you visit me, why not visit me without this," I gestured at the frozen Eric of the Isle. "_Thing_." His taunts still had me angry.

"_He is truly your uncle, Katharine. As much as you'd like to deny needing a father figure. Everyone needs one, your children will need Lance_." So, we _would_ have children. How comforting.

"I have my father," I responded rebelliously. "I don't need…" I struggled to find the right words. "Eric. Why should I-"

"_Katharine!_" Her words resonated inside me. I stopped talking. "_Better. Blessed, you are in need of Eric. Your father isn't the healthy young man he used to be. Cherish him while you have him._" The silver figure evaporated before I could respond.

"Why! Why?" I yelled to the sky. Time was beginning to resume. The crowd cheered me on; unaware that time had halted momentarily. A whisper inside my head gave me orders. _Cherish him while you still have him_. I sighed deeply and stuck out my hand.

"Good duel, Eric." I called him by his name for the first time. It felt odd to call another by my fake name. "Maybe again sometime." He stood, using my hand.

He had noticed my demeanor change. Cyrun jumped the fence, running to me. "Goddess! If you had broken anything or bled or anything, I might've had to have Lance marry you early, just to keep you in bed!" My cheeks flushed.

"Cyrun!" I hissed. "I _told_ him one year, one year it'll be."

"Fine," She looked at me deviously. Most everyone had left. "But I'm only telling you-"

"You _can_ stop right about now!" She shoved her away. "Besides, Lance won't marry me right now."

She came up beside me, worried. "I noticed he wasn't here, why? Shouldn't he be here?"

"He hates me right now." I responded, sitting down to take off some practice armor. I set down Goldfire. _Thank you, sleep, friend._

_You've changed. Was it the Goddess? She visited you, didn't she?_

_Yes, now sleep_. I felt Goldfire's mind go into as much sleep as a talking sword could go. Cyrun's face asked why. "He didn't want me to duel, he said that he wasn't going to fight me this time," I grew angry, remembering how _wrong_ Lance was! I was fine. "He said I needed to learn to back _down_!"

Cyrun rubbed my back. "You do, Katharine. You're too prideful."

"You too!" I stood, anger flaring. "You're- you're both so wrong!" I stormed away, forgetting even Goldfire. Eric stood, confused. I barely noticed him.

I went to my room, throwing pos of beautiful flowers around. They smashed against anything. The walls, my bed, everything. I reached down to grab the next thing. It was a small red heart, blown glass. Lance had given it to me, one of those days we had been here in the castle. Engraved on it was a small note.

_"To my knight,_

_I give to you my heart._

_Lance"_

I couldn't bear to smash it. I held it close to my chest, clutching it tightly. Tears ran down my cheeks. Goddess! How wrong I had been! How could I have been so selfish?

I ran down the hall, my black hair streaming behind me. I knocked on the door I knew so well. A maid opened the door.

"My lady?" She asked confused. "Are you looking for my lord prince?"

"Yes," I said quickly. "Where is he?"

"I heard from the other servants he went out to the stables to ride a horse," She looked at me pityingly. "He was crying."

"He was?" I asked nervously.

"Aye, as much as I'd like to deny a man crying, he was." She nodded. "You better hurry if you plan to catch up, he left just as you match started, about five and ten minutes ago." Could they just say fifteen like normal people? I nodded and ran off toward the stables.

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I cantered away from the stables. Just as I cleared the training fields, the rain started, lightly at first, then harder. I slowed the horse, a gelding. I had picked him at random. I had told the hostler a well-worn saddle, but he insisted on _at least_ a well cared for one. I sighed. It'd be well-worn when I come back.

The rain mingled with the tears. Why couldn't Katharine trust me once in a while? It was the last straw. I'd leave for a day or two, and then come back. Goddess! I loved her so, but she threw it around like a play toy! It angered me that she cared so little for our relationship! I turned the horse toward the Royal Woods and cantered a bit. We made it to the shelter of the trees.

Lightening flashed. My horse, being older than most in our stables, didn't spook. He was used to the lightening. The thunder was different. It made him tense; I could feel the muscles under my hand. I tied him loosely to a tree. I leaned up against a tree, sighing deeply. Mother Nature must be mourning for us.

Lightening flashed again. I vaguely saw a rider mounting a hill, heading toward me. They couldn't have seen me, against the forest background. Thunder rolled across the hills, resounding against the clouds. The rider's horse spooked.

The rider, with its cloak flapping in the growing wind, galloped toward me. When the rider neared, I held out my arms. "JUMP!" I called. The rider obliged. It jumped, landing not so elegantly, in my arms. The hood had been pushed back. It the vague light, I could see a female face. The black hair framed her face. With another flash and roll of thunder, the face registered. "Katharine?" I whispered.

She hugged me closely. Her eyes were squeezed shut hard. "I _hate_ lightening!" So she _did_ have fears! She eyes opened a slit. "Lance?"

"Yes." She cried, hugging he ever tighter. "I'm sorry! I couldn't help it!" I rubbed her back, hoping it was calming.

"Why did you come?" I asked. She looked up.

"I needed to tell you, please, I'm sorry!" She repeated it into my chest. My fiancée was pleasantly warm.

"I accept, love, I do." I forgot all my anger with her. The small drop that penetrated the forest's canopy dropped on our heads. "We'll need to find shelter." She nodded. "I believe that means let go." I whispered politely. As much as I _wanted_ her to stay so close, I knew we had to find _somewhere_ to sleep. For once, I was the commanding force. Her phobia of lightening was astounding, how much it scared a warrior. "Why don't you like lightening?" I asked.

She shivered. "It's unnatural, that much light striking at once." She shook her head. I knew there was something deeper. I'd have to penetrate _that_ darkness another time. I took the gelding's reins and we walked further into the forest. Katharine's horse disappeared.

It took us very little time to find an abandoned bear's cave. It stood there, as if waiting just for us to go inside. Katharine was pretty much no help, so I prided myself on finding suitable shelter, even if I didn't set it up. I poked around, trying to find some dry wood. I gave Katharine my _dry_ blanket I had brought to sleep with. I found some dry firewood, sitting as if some other travelers had needed it. Tinder was with it too. I'd have to replenish it tomorrow. I took some over and made a fire in the conveniently located fire pit.

I started a fire; it's warming heat drying us off. I sighed, leaning up against the natural stone wall. "How long will we have to stay here?" Katharine asked nervously. I hadn't thought her one to be scared of lightening!

"Until tomorrow morning, the storm should abate." I replied tiredly.

She crawled up to my lap, laying her head on it. I pulled her up, hugging her to my body. She was shivering, despite the thick blanket she slept with. Her breath warmed my neck. I rocked side-to-side as much I could. Her breathing slowed.

There were some thoughts of Katharine, being that she was so close, but I pushed them away. I'd wait the year, Goddess will it! She slept heavily. I smiled, thinking what a beautiful bride she'd make in slightly less than a year.

Brides! Ilona! I wondered idly if any man had managed to rescue my sister.

I gently kissed her cheek. "Goodnight, my heart." I whispered, slowly falling asleep.

"Morning!" Katharine said cheerfully. I grumbled _she_ hadn't been the one staying half-awake on watch. Her lips brushed mine. I moved my arms; slightly aware they were still asleep. "Thank you, Lance," She said seriously.

"For what?" I yawned.

"For being there when I needed you most, despite what I said and did." She said, entwining her fingers with mine. "That deserves a reduction." Reduction? For what? She breathed deeply. "I'll marry you whenever you want." She said with such dramatic tension I began to wonder if this was a dream.

"Huh?" I asked, still half-asleep.

She touched my hand. "I'm releasing my claim on a time restraint. You can marry me whenever _you_ want."

I breathed in sharply. If I told her today, she'd think me too prudent. If I said in a few months, she'd think I didn't want her to marry me so soon! _Curse it! No!_ I said. _I take it back! Don't curse it or us or her!_ I stood, grasping her in a hug. I held her close. "What about your year-long test?" I asked honestly.

"I don't care anymore," Katharine said into my chest. "I just want _you_ to be there."

My heart melted. All the resentment that might've been left from last night was gone. "On one condition," I said into her hair. She moved.

"What is it?" She looked worried; worried that she couldn't meet the condition.

"That you tell me why lightening scares you, I know it isn't the light." I said quietly.

I felt my dried shirt get wet from her tears. She drew ragged breaths. "When I was six, I was in a stable with the horses, going from one to another petting them. Heat lightening struck the hay in the barn, starting a fire." I knew where this was going. "Had it not been for the stable boy, I might not be here now." She was shaking from the memory. I hugged her tightly.

We both heard horses approaching. I picked up a stick, hoping at least to fend them off, whoever it was. Royal symbols fluttered. _My_ symbol. _My_ guard had found us.

"My lord prince," My captain said. "The queen is a tizzy trying to figure out where you ran off to." He informed. Idly he took Katharine. "Or _why_ you ran off." He coughed.

Before Katharine exploded, I looked the captain in the eye. "Do you have any reason to doubt my virtue?"

"It's not you I doubt, my lord prince." I glared.

"It very well shouldn't be hers either, captain, or you'll have to find a new job with a dishonorable discharge." The captain paled under his helmet.

"No my lord prince," He breathed. The other soldiers looked from one to another.

"Anyone else have a problem with anything? No? Good." I took Katharine by the hand and we rode together. I refused the horse they had brought with them, not willing to part with Katharine. We mounted my horse and rode in front. This greatly annoyed the captain, I could tell, but didn't care.

We made it back to the palace, my mother out front, waving cheerfully. We entered the palace gates in the back, with my mother running out to meet us. I dismounted. "Mother," I said holding out my hand to hug her. She slapped me.

"How _dare_ you sneak off!" She yelled. "You best not _ever_ do it again!" She saw Katharine standing next to the horse, only slightly leaning on it. "And _you_!" She pointed at the knight. Katharine was startled. "You in your _weakened_ state dared to challenge a master swordsman?" Katharine nodded. "I congratulate you, Lady Katharine! Not even a castle guard would do such a thing!"

I breathed deeply. "Mother. I'd like to marry Katharine within the week."

Katharine smiled broadly, hugging me around the waist.


	17. Rain

**Nixiesocean: So, I really have nothing important to say.**

**Responses:**

**_Scoutcraftpiratess_:D :: sheepish face:: Whatever do you mean? Certain others? Lady Sera isn't born yet…**

**_Rush of Waves_: You have seriously demented outlook if you think that was a cliffie. :D Jk, jk. If I say mean stuff you won't let me borrow books (tear, tear).**

**Onto the story!**

_Chapter 17: Rain_

The palace was frenzied. Cyrun hurried through the mob, confused as to why they were suddenly in a tizzy. She couldn't figure out why. No one whom she stopped said much, except that they were too busy to talk and they were quite sorry that they couldn't explain but could she please find someone else to question? She sighed at the silliness of it all. She finally reached her room.

Bamien was sitting, reading, in a chair. "Hey, sweet." He said as she shut the door. "I heard it was crazy. What's wrong with them?" They still spoke in their previously native language. Neither could bear to speak in common, for fear they'd forget it.

"I don't know! That's the problem! No one would talk…" She trailed off. Somehow, Bamien had moved swiftly and embraced her smaller form. She was soothed by his scent, the "manly" smell of it, the spiciness. She breathed deeply. He smelled lightly like fresh rain.

It hadn't rained all day, or yesterday.

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I read the book. It was in Common. I hadn't read Draconic in a long time. I was sitting on a puffy couch. It was quite interesting, as interesting as a human book could be.

It spoke of fey in the forests, ones who tricked men into coming nearer and then spiriting, _pun intended?_, Bamien asked himself, them away, leaving no trace of their disappearance. It spoke of the mysterious dragons that fought knights for the hand of maidens. How skewed the prospective on dragons was! Only _evil_ dragons took maidens as their consorts. If you could call it that. His ears perked up as Cyrun entered the room. He looked up, she was breathing heavily.

"Hey, sweet." He said, smiling. He was glad to see her back. She grinned. He stood and came closer. "I heard it was crazy. What's wrong with them?"

He response was in Draconic. "I don't know!" She sounded stressed. "That's the problem! No one would talk…" He hugged her closely. She was smaller, but not skinny. She was well muscled, something that carried over from her, well,_ previous_, form. She smelled like rain. A smell he hadn't caught in a long time.

It wasn't natural rain.

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My mother commanded the chaos of servants. I told her "within the week" I guess she thought that meant "as soon as physically possible". Katharine clung to me, except for the dress fittings, which I wasn't allowed to see. She, however, oversaw my wedding outfit. I presumed it was something women were born with. Then again, this was her wedding day too, so I let her perfect it.

She was having five fittings in one day. For once, Katharine was true woman. One concerned about her outward appearance, one that worried about the wedding décor and who was being invited. I heard from the servants that she was forced to sit down by my mother and was being watched over by her new lady-in-waiting.

The head of sewing oversaw a legion of women who were busy sewing the new couples' wedding attire. It would be finished by the next morning. I think my mother was having the women working overtime during the night. No one could _possibly_ have a bride's dress finished in one day and one night! Even my tunic and breeches weren't entirely plain! I suspected Katharine's dress had already been started.

Speaking of _Katharine_, she leaned into me. One of the few times today we'd been able to settle down. We were in her extra-ordinarily temporary waiting room on a ruby-colored couch. She had a different type of life; one I assumed was the product of our soon-to-be-marriage. She turned her face upward. I obliged. I kissed her lips tenderly. She smiled.

"I'm glad I took off the time limit, Lance." She whispered. "This is much better."

I kissed her midnight hair. "I am too, sweetling."

"Sweetling?" She asked, curious. She was smiling, despite her curiosity.

"Well, Kathy just doesn't suit you." I replied, complimenting my beautiful bride-to-be.

She blushed and coughed, quickly changing the topic. "Did you know your mother insisted that the wedding be tomorrow?" Katharine asked innocently.

"I didn't!" I laughed. "Is she so anxious to have you be her daughter?"

"I think she said something about scaring me away." Katharine said, a grin plain on her face. "Did you _happen_ to scare away a possible bride?"

This time, I blushed. "She got cold feet." I said. Katharine snorted. "What?"

"Your mother said it was _you_." She laughed heartily. "Don't worry, I'll be able to hunt you down myself should you try to run." Her face was full of realization. "Is that where you were when Asnarinith napped you?"

So, my beautiful and _smart_ birde-to-be figured it out. "Yes." I said. "She was one of those foreign princesses. I would've thought your father would've told you!"

"I was away trying to save Lady Serena." Katharine said blandly. "Sir Gavin saved her."

"I think I did her about that. Didn't they get married?"

"Yeah," She replied. "Aren't we though?"

I kissed her again. "But we weren't classic love-at-first-sight were we?"

"No. We weren't." Katharien agreed. "More like hate-at-first-sight," She snuggled closer. "I wonder how long it'll take Bamien to propose to Cyrun." She mumbled; she was getting sleepy. I could tell. From all the time out on the trail, I could tell when she was plain exhausted.

I ran my fingers through her silky hair. "I wonder how long it'll take you to fall asleep." I commented. But her words gave me food for thought. They seemed to be a typical couple, save the fact that Cyrun is a dragon-gone-human. I looked down at my fiancée. She was sleeping. She had never responded to my comment. She slept so peacefully that I couldn't bear to move. So, I settled on making myself comfortable as possible with a warrior on my chest and tried to sleep.

I did. I woke up, worried that a servant would see us. It was evening. No one was there to see me awake. Katharine hadn't even woken. I gently nudged her. "Love, we have to get downstairs for dinner." I whispered, tenderly kissing her cheek. We hadn't moved an inch, and frankly, my arm was asleep.

She yawned. "It's dinner time!" She practically screamed. "What? Why didn't you tell me?" She jumped up, moving around, throwing clothes out of her wardrobe in order to find a good one. I slowly moved away to the washroom to tame my hair and wash my face. "Grah!" She yelled. "Caroline!" She yelled. "Come here!" Caroline, her handmaiden, practically jumped out of thin air. If she noticed me, she said nothing. The Captian of my Guard have obviously been warned and warned others about spreading such rumors.

I left. I made my way to my rooms to change quickly and head downstairs. I came down the stairs, resisting the urge to jump two at a time.

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I was dressed in a pale green dress. It made my hair seem darker than it already was.

"Caroline, please speak, I cannot bear silence." I comment while she curled my hair.

"Well, my lady, I have nothing to say." She responded. I had told her to be frank with me. I detest disillusioned women. They bug me, like the court ladies who are forever whispering about my "unladylike tendencies". Fighting, for those that couldn't figure it out. I ignored them; they bothered me far too much.

"I don't know, just talk about whatever you have on your mind." I told her. "I'm bored."

I could see her face contort a bit as she decided what to speak about. "Well, I was wondering about the prince…" She trailed off.

"About why he was here, in my rooms?" I asked. She nodded. "If you're wondering, I'm still pure." I said dryly. "Why do people make such a deal about it? They don't trust me? I could fend off Lance if he tried."

"I don't know, my lady, all I know is that these courtly ladies are forever worried about status, power and position." She said. "You're ready, my lady. Go enchant your prince." She whispered into my ear. I took one look at my reflection.

Tonight, my last night single, I had allowed Caroline to paint my face. I had felt like a court-jester, but now I had changed my decision. I looked beautiful. For once in my life, I truly felt like a woman, not like a knight. I touched the mirror, amazed. She had but a bare amount of eye shadow, a lightly darker color than my skin. My lips were slightly redder and my cheeks slightly blushed. I smiled. I was _truly_ beautiful.

I got up from my chair and my pale dress swirled around my ankles. My slippers were a soft green as well, matching perfectly. I grinned and left my room.

Lance had never seen me with paint on my face. I cherished the thought of his amazement.

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I was joking with my mother and father. Everyone quieted as the son-to-be bride of the Crown Prince came down the staircase. Everyone, except maybe one or two women, were amazed by her transformation.

Her hair was delicately curled, giving her a more formal air. She also wore a simple green dress, one that showed her curves. It wasn't either of the extremes. Just right for her. As she slowly made her way toward me, I noticed something subtlety different, something that accented her beauty. Her eyes were slightly darker, her lips slightly redder. She neared and I rose to pull out her chair. I chastely kissed her cheek as she sat. She smiled and the meal commenced.

I couldn't focus on the food. Katharine's leg was brushing up next to mine and it greatly distracted me. Finally, my mother stood. "Attention!" She said. Everyone stopped talking and looked at the queen intently. "Prince Lance shall be wed to the Lady Katharine at exactly noon tomorrow!" She informed the audience. They burst into clapping. I had been a bachelor way too long to get this much applause. I smiled gratefully and stood.

"I don't mean to be a party-spoiler, but this wedding won't be as grand as normal weddings go," Everyone was silent. "We cannot simply forget that my sister is still missing." I said. A few gasps were heard. "Therefore, our wedding shall take place at noon, yes, but in a private chapel." My mother glowered. She had wanted a massive wedding, but I talked her out of it.

Katharine smiled and took the spotlight. "As my fiancée said, it will be in a private chapel, but you all may wait outside to greet and congratulate us outside. I thank you for whomever sent men to find my soon-to-be sister-in-law. She is already a sister to me." She sat and the meal continued. I got a few more kisses before we were sent to bed.

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Cyrun lay in my arms. "Sweet," She whispered. "Why do you smell of rain?" She asked, kissing my neck.

I sat up. "I smell… of rain?" I asked. "You do too, Cyrun." I said.

"I do?" She asked. "Do you remember anything about it? Anything special?" She asked.

"No." I said, angry. "That's the thing! Something in my mind, a place I can't reach!" She snuggled closer to my chest. I wrapped my arms around her body. "The wedding is tomorrow, love." I whispered. "We'll need our sleep."

"Aye, Bamien," She replied. I looked around. It seemed lighter in here than before. Had someone lit a candle?

I lay back down and tried to sleep. My body wouldn't let me.


	18. Ilona's Return

**Nixiesocean: I just checked my stats. Thank you, _Scoutcraft Piratess_ for adding me to _The Enchanted Chronicles of the Whiney, Bratty Princesses!_ And thank you, _Da Vinci at Work_ for adding me to _Mermaid Tales and Faerie Dust_. It's a major compliment to be added to your c2 groups! Thanks!**

**_Rush of Waves_: So you win! Sorry! I really didn't think of it as a cliffie… that's all.**

**_Scoutcraft Piratess_: Um… I didn't think so… (yawn) but I'm starting to think I have insomnia! After, my rest time isn't all that "restful" (sorry about redundancy).**

_Chapter 18: Ilona's Return_

Rain… rain meant something. Bamien couldn't think of it. Something important about rain. What was it? Something… Cyrun yawned in his arms. She curled tighter into him. He forgot his problems and put his head back onto hers. Her hair smelled like rain. His body wouldn't let him sleep until he found out what it meant. He sighed and crawled out of bed. Cyrun slept on.

He pulled a book off the shelf. _A Study on Dragons_ it was titled. He flipped open the book, a drawing of a dragon breathing fire. It looked like a red one; Asnarinith was a red dragon. He flipped further back until he saw a chapter heading. _Silver Dragons: The Great Mystery_. He flipped the next page. He read.

_"… silver dragons, the rarest and most peaceful of the race of dragons, are still a mystery, even after the humans the hundreds of thousands of years humans have lived with them. They are aloof separate and rarely come into contact with those outside their sect."_ All this, Bamien already knew. His mind was slowly becoming more human, something he couldn't bear. His eyes scanned the page. _"Female silvers are often recognized by their distinctly larger size. Males, often smaller and built with denser muscles, are the caretakers of the dragonets. A female…"_ Bamien scanned further down. At the end, he found what he was looking for.

_"Silver dragons, unlike most other dragons, don't smell of brimstone. _Draco Silveris_ smell of fresh rain."_

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The morning light wasn't even through the window when I was woken. I had only gotten to sleep last night with a few cups of tea laced with liquor. The night before one's wedding is normally full festivities. It was, to the extreme. Since the nobles wouldn't be in the chapel with us, they had decided on a lavish party before and after. Without even a month or two of planning, the cook had made a lavish five-layer cake. It had small roses, delicate (again to the extreme).

On the top was a female dressed in plate and mail armor, me, obviously, with a man in king's robes, Lance. I noticed with a smile, I was next to him, not slightly behind. The cook had obviously heard the rumors and responded with an extravagant cake. The head cook and any cooking staff that helped immediately got a thirty gold-piece bonus (the queen's doing, not mine).

I put on my dress early that morning (my wedding was to take place at noon, when the sun was at its height. There was much debate as to whether or not it should take place at moonrise, the Goddess' time, but after consulting a priestess, it was decided noon). I spun in front of the tri-fold mirror.

For once, I didn't object to a corset. The dress, a silvery-white (another, less conspicuous, hint at my knighthood) fabric, clung to me like a second skin. It was dotted with small silk flowers and embroidery-vines. I smiled. I was beautiful without any jester's make-up or my hair done. The neckline was modest, but still showed some upper-chest. The sleeves were wide, like angel's wings, and trailed off when I spun in a circle. The dress had a train of about three to four feet. The outer-most piece of lace was finely detailed, flowered, like everything else. Another amazing fact was that, I didn't care I was covered in lace and flowers.

I was getting married after all!

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Cyrun was still asleep and I was awake, and fretting. Silver dragons, to humans, smell like rain? Why, then, did they smell each other as rain? They were humans, yes, but they _had_ been silvers. Shouldn't they smell like humans?

As he fretted, Cyrun blearily awoke. "Bamien, stop worrying." She mumbled.

His head turned. "How…?" He asked.

"You _were_ worrying?" She asked, sitting up.

"Yes, I was." He said. "Tell me my emotion." He thought of Asnarinith.

She bent over, clutching her head. "Hate!" She cried. "Goddess! Hate!"

He thought of her, her eyes, her face and her personality. She lay back on the pillows. "Stop it, Bamien, this is messing me up." She mumbled. She sat back up. She blushed. "I didn't know you loved me that much…"

Confused, Bamien tried his mind-trick again. He found her mind, along with the frenzied ones of the servants, and slowly began relaxing. "Please, stop." She whispered. Her eyes dropped heavily. They sprung open and he lost his grip on her mind. "Bamien… was that you?"

He realized he hadn't thought it reality. "Yes…"

"Do you know what this means, love?" She asked, coming to the conclusion.

"What?" As he spoke, she slipped out of bed to come sit next to him, wrapping her arms around him.

She spoke softly, as if she spoke to loud, the secret would be out. "We're not completely lost."

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I was getting my things put on. It was two hours' or so until noon, and Goddess, I can't wait. My maids are twittering about the beauty of the soon-to-be princess. All I heard was gibberish. After all, they spoke in high voices unattainable by men, and spoke twenty times as fast! All I ever caught included "beauty" and "princess" or "Lady Katharine". In my mind's eye, I saw flashing pictures of her, her face in under a helmet, and her in a dress. Somehow, she fitted the armor better. It was more her.

But, who really cared. I am marrying my love (and it isn't a _terrible_ marriage…). I wanted to get a kiss in beforehand, but I wasn't allowed to see her until she came into the chapel. Stupid customs.

Before long, I was in the chapel and waiting for her. The few number of people (including Cyrun, Bamien and Prince Brennin) waiting silenced. I turned around to face my soon-to-be bride.

She was beautiful. Even that was an understatement. There are no words to describe the image she projected. I don't think she realized her true beauty until today. The dress was a mix of silver and white. It swayed with her hips (which I _was not_ staring at) and trailed behind about three or four feet. The base of her neck had a simple locket with a heart on it. Nothing more.

She reached the altar, my beautiful princess, reached for my hand. She was calm, but also a little nervous I noted. I kissed her cheek and the wedding commenced.

I remember little about that ceremony. It was a blur, coming back into focus when we walked back out, rings of simple silver on our fingers. I do believe her lips never tasted so sweet.

Our banquet was a blur also. Until, of course, our solemnity was disrupted by a trumpet's blare. I remember it clearly. My new wife and I were sitting at the table, surrounded by joyful parents and drunk nobles. The messenger entered and quietly made his way to our table. He was externally fighting whether to disrupt my celebration, I guessed, because his eyes went from my father to me and back again. It was annoying.

"Deliver the message aloud, please." I said.

He trembled. "Sir Devyn and Princess Ilona have returned."

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I gasped. Happily, I should add. I was worried for the princess. She _was_ my sister-in-law now after all.

"Bring her in." I heard my husband's (how I love the word!) father say. "We shall meet her and her rescuer in the private audience chamber. Come along, Lance." He paused. "And you, Lady-, daughter." I didn't respond immediately. My father nudged my and angled his head toward the king. My father-in-law. I jumped up and followed Lance's back.

We entered a small room set up with six chairs. Princess Ilona, my new sister, sat in a chair, glaring across the room at a man. He was easily twice her age. Ilona was, what, sixteen, seventeen? "Ilona!" Lance said, running to hug her.

She shoved him off. "How _dare_ you!" She yelled. She looked at her father. "And you! Giving me away like some _prize_!" I walked up. "Princess Ilona." I said quietly. "I understand your anger perfectly well." I said. "Would you like to take a separate room and talk with me and your mother?"

"Lady Katharine?" She asked. "I had heard about you. I recognize your voice, you're Sir Eric are you not?"

"I am." I said. "And your new sister. Please, come, let us talk away from the dithering men." I winked,

When my sister's (how odd the word! I've never had a sister before…) mother tried to follow us; Ilona threw back her head to speak. "Just Katharine and I, Mother." The queen stopped dead her tracks. She looked like she was going to cry.

"I'm sorry," I said sincerely. We entered a smaller, side room. Ilona sat down. "Now, what's wrong?"

"What's _wrong_?" She exploded. "They expect me to _marry_ a guy _twice_ my age!"

"Oh." I said. "You're not fond of him, I expect."

"Far from it! He's an annoying jerk!" She replied. "If I had known such a crucial fact, I would've stayed with Asnarinith!" I hugged her.

I grinned maliciously. "Want to know a plan to get out of this wretched marriage?"

"Tell me! Anything!" She cried.

I winked. "Flirt with another man."

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I sat dumbfounded. "_Flirt_ with another man? Katharine, I don't think you understand-"

She patted my shoulder. "I understand perfectly. Listen, I was engaged to some unknown person since I can remember, because my mother wanted it. I tried to get out of it, by flirting. I'll level with you, I was _dreadful_ at it!" I hugged her. "You're better at than I'll ever be, for two reasons. Your whole life, you've openly been a woman, me I've masqueraded as a man for a long time. Two, you're not yet married and can't be pinned down with adultery."

"You're a genius!" I squealed. "But how… and who?"

"Your parents already know plan B. I know who it is too." She winked "You'll find out as soon as-"

Someone opened the door, the old man Ilona was to "marry". "Princess, your parents request you back in the main room." He looked at me suspiciously.

"She'll be right there." Katharine replied. "Now, leave us." He glared and shut the door. "Name?"

"Sir Devyn, a devil of a man." I said. "Please, don't let them marry me to him!" I was starting to cry.

"Sister of my husband, I wouldn't dream of it."

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We reentered the private meeting chamber. I heard Ilona grumble. I wished I didn't know why they were getting married, that I had been in on it. Maybe this wasn't the best idea…

"Ilona, dear, we know you don't wish to marry, but, please, honey, we promised. We thought you'd be okay with it, after all look at Lady Serena and Sir Gavin!" The king said. Ilona moved toward, slyly, to the door. I silently applauded her discretion.

"Now, in a few years, you'll thank us for such a good marriage. Sir Devyn is a good man!" the queen added.

"I refuse, beyond any recognition to marry that monster." She pointed at the old knight. She yanked open the door and stormed out. She ran blindly, not really following any course. No one followed her, so I causally walked out, following her, but not really.

The queen was crying and the king trying to make amends with Sir Devyn. Lance was comforting his mother, my mother now. I turned down the same hallway. As I neared the next corner, I heard voices, Ilona's and another's.

"What's wrong, princess?" A man's voice gently asked.

Ilona was in tears. "They- they- they want me to marry this wretched old man!"

"Was he your rescuer, Princess Ilona?"

"Y-yes!" She said, tearing up again. I heard a burst of tears.

"How old is he?" The man said. I had a hard time placing the voice.

"I- I don't know. Thirty something." She said quietly.

"Thirty-something?" He asked. He mumbled something to the weeping princess.

"I'm seventeen." She said. "I can't be wed yet!"

"Such is the life of royalty, princess. I'm sorry." He said.

"What's your name?" Ilona asked.

"Prince Brennin of Auszin and Guen, princess. I'm visiting." He whispered.

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He smelled wonderful! Unlike the smelly Sir Devyn. I couldn't help but be calmed. He comforted me. I liked this man. My head was buried in his chest. My frenzied breathing slowed to a normal pace as his chest vibrated. He spoke in soft, caring tones. Only Lance had shown such kindness.

I knew, as a princess, that my duty was to marry for Furde's power, but I couldn't bring myself to be wed to Sir Devyn. The man who held me rubbed my back, calming me more. I was almost in a perfect state of harmony. Except for the nagging feeling in the back of my mind, that I couldn't do anything. I would be wed to Sir Devyn and nothing I could do would change that fact.

"What's your name?" I mumbled into his chest.

"Prince Brennin of Auszin and Guen, princess. I'm visiting." He said.

I sprung back. I had been hugging another _royal_? I coughed. "I'm sorry, prince. Propriety forbids such intimate contact."

"And yet only my title says that. Why isn't a man allowed to comfort a weeping woman?" He asked wisely.

"I- I don't know, prince. But if my parents found us, I'd be flayed alive!"

He came closer. I felt his breath. I didn't move away. "Princess, I'm royalty." He kissed my forehead. "If you ever want another option for marriage, I'm unmarried." He left.

Had he just proposed? He didn't even know me? And yet, I liked this man. He was kind, caring and loveable. He comforted me easily, and had no problem with intimate contact.

I liked this man, Prince Brennin.


	19. Katharine of the Jewel

**Nixiesocean: And here we are, a glorious 19th chapter. Happy days! Anyways, I want a vote on whether to have 1 chapter and an epilogue or just an epilogue. There will be a semi-sequel, one taking place _after_ Isle of the Amazons. It may just barely cross over, or cross over. I'm not sure yet.**

**Responses!**

**_Scoutcraft Piratess_: I know she does, the poor princess. : ) She is nice, well-bred et cetra. A true princess. Oh, and the whole wedding thing, that's cuz I'm lame and didn't want to make a whole wedding ceremony. Then again, it fits well with Lance's character.**

**_Narnialover_: Yeah, me too. I think she will. Poor Ilona.**

**_Krupski_: Well, my dear reader, the end is near, either a last chapter and an epilogue, or just an epilogue. It will come soon enough!**

**Read and review. No flames please!**

_Chapter 19: Katharine of the Jewel_

We walked down the halls, our hands entwined. Lance kissed my neck. "Chaste kisses in public, dear husband." I whispered. He laughed merrily. "Is something funny?"

"No, sweet." He whispered, kissing my forehead. "Chaste kisses, such a term!"

I grinned. "But, husband of mine, what of your promise? To wait for me? Does that not still apply?" I was purposefully taunting him.

He hugged me as we walked. "But, sweet, we're married, are we not? What then? Can I not have a kiss in public?"

"You may, my lord," I replied, kissing his cheek. "But chaste kisses." We reached the door to his, and now also mine, rooms. I leaned up against the door, kissed his lips and opened the door. I kissed his lips again. "I'll be right back, sweet."

I stood, taking the infinite number of pins from my hair. The maids had requested to take it out themselves, but I refused. I took a quick bath to rinse the mousse from my hair and dried it. I heard a door open, then close. I peered around the door.

Sir Devyn stood there, talking with Lance. "What do you want, Sir Devyn? Who let you in?" He asked, obviously confused.

"Why, Lance, I'm hurt. Don't you know me?" He asked innocently. "Oh, that's right, your _knife_ took that arrow! You'll not dodge this death!"

He drew a knife. As he did, I flew out of the bathroom. I saw everything in slow motion. My hands reached out, pushing Lance aside. His body responded, falling in turn. The dagger hit me. I felt the pain shooting through the side of my body. I hit the ground. Devyn fled. The pain in the side of my body was excruciating. I saw Lance's face above mine.

"Katharine!" He said. A pressure on my chest hurt like nothing else. His hands were covered in blood. My blood. I breathed shallowly. Eventually, a white, motherly figure, the one who had appeared to me not long ago, came, her arms outstretched.

_"Katharine,"_ She said. _"Are you ready to come?"_

It was the pain that beat me in the end. Fire burned along my side and my chest ached. "I am, Goddess."

_"Come along, then, daughter. Accompany me to my kingdom."_ She whispered, gathering me into her arms. We flew along the blackness, her inner light beating out all darkness. I smiled, a peacefully laid my head in her arms, letting her fly me to safety.

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Katharine lay the on the floor. Her blood was barely seeping out of the wound. Lance was frantic. He pressed his hands onto the dagger, but that pressed it in harder. Someone knocked. He didn't open the door. They knocked harder. He couldn't remember if it was he, or Lance, but Brennin entered the room

"What's wrong?" He asked. He saw Katharine's dying form.

"She's not dead," Lance mumbled, trying to pull the knife out.

Brennin saw the blood starting to slow. "Lance, let her alone. She's dead."

Now, Lance grew angry. "_She's not dead!_" He yelled.

"Lance," Brennin said reasonably. "Please-"

"She – is – not – dead!" Lance said. "If you're not going to help, leave."

Brennin sighed, shrugged and yelled out the halls. "Get Lady Cyrun!" He screamed. "Make her come to the prince's quarters!" When no one moved, he added. "_Now!"_

She appeared without a servant even bringing her. All three of them were too surprised to even care. "Goddess!" She cursed. "You're always getting hurt, Katharine!" She looked at Brennin. She cocked her head, as if listening. She nodded. "Get Goldflame, her sword." Surprisingly, Bamien appeared with the requested sword.

_My lady,_ The sword said through the minds of everyone. The jewel set in the base of the hilt had a sparkle of light. The sparkle moved around, without any help from the light. It focused in on Katharine. _Set me on her, hilt on her forehead, Cyrun. _Cyrun obliged without a question. _Bamien, set your hands on her shoulders. Brennin, yours on his._ When a servant tried to add his hands, she rebuked him. _Did I ask for you, Ceve? No! Get out!_ He was so stunned, he didn't move, but he did release his hands.

_Brennin, channel your father's power through to Bamien. Bamien, channel yours and Brennin's power to Cyrun._ Brennin glowed a soft green. The fire grew very bright, then flowed out of Brennin, leaving him dark. Bamien glowed that soft green, but added was a bright blue. The glows mixed, leaving Bamien a bright blue-green. Eventually, that pulsed and flowed out of him and onto Cyrun's shoulders.

The glow enveloped the small healer. A vivid red was added to the mix. The flames of color swirled about, never staying in one place. Cyrun closed her eyes. They were clenched in pain. "Goldflame!" She yelled. "Anytime!"

_Channel this power into me. I'll take it from here. Brennin, stop Perhin!_ Cyrun clutched the sword hard, the sharp blade pierced Cyrun's hands. Her blood flowed gently out, as if slowed by the magic coursing through the dragon's veins.

Her eyelids opened, showing the lights through her eyes. The color flowed out of her into the sword on Katharine's chest. Too much of the princess' blood covered the floor. Even the servants present knew the princess was dead. Goldflame, ever true to her name, spread a golden flame over Katharine's body, starting with her heart, which had been narrowly missed. The dagger wretched itself from Katharine's heart, It flew into the air, and then imploded, ceasing to exist. _Brennin! Catch Perhin!_ Brennin released and concentrated thoroughly. The madman, who was running down the halls, stopped, his mind frozen.

The flames the animate sword had spread begun to work its way into the princess' flesh. The three mixed flames glowed inside Goldflame fully. It pulsated through the sword. It too spread to cover the lady-knight's body. Goldflame's glow died and the jewel on her hilt sparkled less. Eventually, the glow died on the princess as well. Goldflame didn't say anything.

Katharine's eyes twitched. They opened. A cheer went up around the room, Lance more than anyone. He cried. Cyrun took the sword from Katharine's chest. The hilt, which had rested on Katharine's forehead, came away cleanly, but a golden jewel was still on Katharine's forehead. Cyrun said nothing.

The two royals kissed. Brennin spoke. "You'd better hurry, my strength is waning." He whispered. Guards, who had been called also, ran down the halls to catch the madman. Lance helped Katharine sit up.

Katharine looked down at her sword. "Goldflame?" She asked, stroking the sword's blade. "Where have you gone?"

No one answered. Lance wept bitterly on his wife's shoulder. "I thought you were dead, Kathaine."

Her response surprised everyone, even Cyrun. "I was dead, Lance." She said inanimately. Lance's head perked up.

"No one can come back from death, Katharine, not even a lady-knight." She said tenderly. "It was probably the border of life and death."

At this, Katharine grew angry. "What would you know of it, Cyrun? I _was_ dead. My spirit _did_ float away, and Goldflame _did_ anchor firmly and pull me back into life. _I_ have been at the border of life and death. I was far beyond."

Lance held her close. "It's all right, Katharine. We believe you." He kissed the top of her head. He saw a small streak of white, one that glittered and gleamed with a golden light. The prince of Furde said nothing. It would only upset his princess.

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"… Thus the princess did sleep, Death taking her in his arms, flying her away, but Lo! Cyrun with aura bright, Prince Brennin with mind strong and Bamien with faith unfailing took up the sword Goldflame into their arms, laying the princess' sword on her chest. They gathered 'round the dying or dead princess, praying to the Goddess to save her. That Goddess answered them with an aura bright. Goldflame, stalwart sword and faithful companion, didst channel their powers unto the dead princess. Thus, Katharine, relived of her burden of Death, awoke as if from a peaceful sleep. The prince didst hug her, holding her close. Hence, Katharine of the Jewel was born of the death of Katharine of the Sword." The bard finished his ballad. He bowed amongst the clapping.

It had taken the bard little over a month to compose the ballad. Now, everyone in the kingdom knew of their princess, Katharine of the Jewel. Lance hugged her tightly. She was weakened. Even in a month, the princess had yet to recover fully. Mystics predicted something very weird. They said her strength wouldn't return until a daughter was born to her.


	20. Another Wedding

**Nixiesocean: To all my faithful readers, I give you the last chapter in the _Lady-in-Shining-Armor_ story. I will add an epilogue. Have fun!**

**Responses:**

**_Scoutcraft Piratess_: Aww, you wanted me to kill off my heroine? I'm hurt! I like Katharine far too much to kill her off, Lance… meh. Maybe, he's just the prince-in-distress, anyways. Oh, and the baby, I added a little funny scene there. It may be a little inaccurate, but hey it's a fairy tale!**

**_Rush of Waves_: Aren't I so mean not to tell you about that little bit at the end? Ah, well, have fun reading this chappie. Maybe Jacob thinks you're on drugs or something, but I don't. P.S. Read _Isle of the Amazons_. Surprise!**

**Have fun reading, my little reviewers!**

**Oh, and I was kinda disappointed to only get 2 reviews. It made me sad. Anyways, I want at least five reviews before I start on the epilogue.**

**Toodles!**

_Chapter 20: Another Wedding_

I struggled, yes, with everyday activities. But, I was always, slowly and steadily, gaining back my lost strength. There was one loss I felt acutely, the loss of Goldflame. She had been like a mother, and I needed one badly. Lance's mother was nice enough, but even a queen couldn't replace my friendship with Goldflame. I needed one like her.

Her corpse, you could call it, was put into Furde's Hall of Relics. I visited the sword everyday, no matter what the courtiers said, they didn't know her. She was a beautiful sword, yes, and was admired by weapon smiths all across Furde, but it was I that looked at her to remember _her_. How she had been there, slowly receeding my anger, helping fend off bandits in order to save Lance's butt (the _second_ time), her loyalty to me that had been her undoing. She had given up her _life_ for me, and oh, how I _cursed_ Perhin for it.

Lance comforted me. I tried to reconcile her death for my life, but I found it impossible. She had died to give me life, and I couldn't repay that debt. Cyrun tried to cheer me up one day.

"Katharine, I know you're very depressed and all, but I was wondering, um," Cyrun never stuttered. "Would it be too much to ask if, um," Twice? This must be a record. "We were finished with Asnarinith and all."

I nodded. I had forgotten. How could I battle a dragon without my sword? I couldn't, and that was plain and simple. I was just another knight without Goldflame; she had made me great. "I don't know, Cyrun. I can't do it. I know that. Asnarinith expects me." I mumbled.

"Would he expect Bamien and I, you think?" She asked precariously.

"I'm not sure, Cyrun, I'm not a dragon. Ask your daughter." I didn't even realize what I had said until Cyrun responded.

"Call on… oh, Goddess." She remembered. "I can't call on her, please, don't make me. Who would respond to my plea? I'm a terrible mother, she knows it, I know it and you know it."

"You'd be wonderful mother, Cyrun, why say such a thing?" I asked, coming a bit out of my silly grief.

"I don't know." She replied. Her eyes lit up. "Bamien and I searched Asnarinith's cavern a while ago, while you were recovering."

"And?" I asked. "Why get yourself killed over it?"

"He wasn't there, Katharine. He was cleared out, plain gone." She replied.

"Then your coming to me wasn't about that, what is it about?" I asked.

"Um, well, Bamien and I, were, um, wondering if-" I stopped her with a hand.

"You two could get married?" She nodded. "It's a very human thing to do you know, stay with one mate. You sure you want to?"

"Yes, we've talked it over." She said emphatically.

"Okay, well, you'll have to wait a week or so, Cyrun, the palace is getting ready for my sister's wedding." I smiled.

"Oh? To whom?" She smiled also, realizing who was the bridegroom.

"Only the prince of Auszin and Guen." I grinned plainly.

"Love at first sight, I'm guessing." The dragon said dryly.

"Only the best for fairy tales, I'm told." I replied. "Isn't it ironic?"

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Cyrun was radiant. All the men of the room were envious of me, save the newly wedded Prince Lance and Prince Brennin, who had wives of their own. I beamed, not ashamed of anything. She and I are perfect matches. It, of course, was better that we were at least partially Draconic again. Asnarinith had made all this possible, in his own, evil sort of way.

Now, it didn't matter I was a millennium ahead of my time, that I had once been the most commanding creature of the face of the earth, all that mattered was the beautiful woman approaching the altar of the Goddess. She wore a silvery material, more metallic than white. Her hair shone like the purest silver of the entire world. It was in a double-dome style, approved by the one Princess Katharine, with tiny drops of emerald. She beamed brightly, lighting the room with her mere presence.

I reached out to grasp her hand. She took it and took the steps with amazing grace. "Are you, Bamien, ready to take Cyrun as your wedded wife?" The priestess asked with a smile.

"I am," I said quietly.

When Cyrun responded equally, the whole procession swirled past my sharp mind and into oblivion. I remember swirls of color and men congratulating. I remember blank faces of women hugging Cyrun and telling her to have many children. One small boy, of three or four, came up to Cyrun. He smiled.

She leaned down to catch what he said. He touched her knee and politely kissed her cheek. Then, the small boy of three of four whispered something that made Cyrun blush madly. His mother, not hearing what the boy had said, hurried the boy away.

"What did the boy say?" I asked in Draconic.

She, I couldn't tell via link or otherwise, was either flustered or happy, but she hung onto my arm. "I'll tell you later, sweet." She said. Another noble-born woman had come up to her.

Lance took me aside once during the festivities. "I know this probably isn't the best time, but are you sure we're safe with Asnarinith gone?"

"I am, and so is Cyrun." I replied assuredly.

"You know that once you have a child, she'll be unable to leave it to pursue Asnarinith?"

"We don't plan on-" I started.

"You don't _plan_ children, Bamien, they happen." He patted my back. "Good luck with your wife, Goddess knows mine is hard enough." He smiled and left, quickly returning to his wife's side. I reached out my mind to catch Cyrun's. It was blocked.

She had never blocked me before.

_- Nine Months-_

Slightly less than nine months later, I figured out Lance's cryptic message. Cyrun bore me a beautiful, if not small, baby girl. She resembled her mother greatly, more so than she resembled me. My little baby girl, Ceara. Suddenly, Cyrun and I were thrown into the world of parenting. We needed jobs; since living off the royal treasury wasn't something we were liable to do as adults. Lance gave us the answer to our problem shortly after Katharine, through lots of pain, bore twin boys. They had to give a stimulant to keep the new mother awake. She, unfortunately, was still weak. However, Katharine was well pleased with her new boys. Neither, however, was named after tools. Ade, the elder of the two, was more demanding. Aram, the younger, was near silent. The new parents feared for the child's ability to talk, but it the fears were proven wrong after Aram grew hungry.

In any case, I was given a job by Lance, Chief Advisor of the Prince, or, in short, the prince's friend. Ironically, it was a well-paying job, to be a friend. I could provide for my child and wife easily, without being a burden to the royal family, who had two newlyweds and two newborns.

The long and the short of it was, I had a job, Cyrun had a child, Katharine had two boys and Lance was Crown Prince.


	21. Lullabies

**Nixiesocean: First off: I need to apologize for not updating sooner. I'm super sorry. I was gone to Tenn. for thanksgiving and my grandparents have a super-slow internet. Second off: This is the last chapter. There'll be an epilogue, though I'm not sure how long that will take me. I know there'll be a sequel, and I'm working on it, but I don't know how long it'll take me.**

**Responses:**

**_ScoutcraftPiratess_:-D Thanks! I like kiddies too. I baby-sit two little boys. Exhausting, but they're cute. Anyways, I hope you like this second installment of the children.**

**_Rush of Waves_: With you literal definition of 'cliffie' you'll probably consider this one a cliffie, though I wouldn't. P.S. You'll recognize the lullabies. :-D**

**_Da Vinici at Work_: It's cliché in a way. Katharine finds it cliché because the knight (her) saves the damsel (Lance) and falls in love, eventually marries. It's also cliché in the way that all the knight/damsel combos are cliché. Its cliché in a weird way.**

_Chapter 21: Lullabies_

I sat in my chair, looking out the window. Ade and Aram were asleep in my arms, breathing quietly. I looked at them. They were adorable. They took after me in hair and Lance in eye color. Those bright jade eyes always sought me out. Now, however, baby eyelids covered those glowing orbs. I loved those twins deeply. I wanted a daughter; every mother wants a daughter.

I rocked my babies, softly singing a tune I knew from childhood.

"_Soon night will come,"_

_Quieting the sun,_

_Silent the sound,_

_Of the night coming through!_

_Hear the wind,_

_Whispering to you,_

_Sleep, sleep, sleep._

_Goodnight my sweet one,_

_Goodnight my dear one,_

_Goodnight my sweet one,_

_To you,_

_Good night."_

I stopped my singing, ending on a low note. I sighed happily. Aram was rousing. I hugged him close. His eyes, framed by thin black hair, looked innocently at me. I whispered quietly to the child, "Aram, sleep." His eyes rolled back. But he wasn't asleep. I felt something stir inside me. I softly sang another lullaby.

_"Himmel und Erde,_

_Müssen vergehn,_

_Aber die Musiki,_

_Aber die Musiki,_

_Aber die Musiki,_

_Bleiben bestehn."_

I realized I didn't even know what the words meant. They seemed to soothe the fretting Aram, however, so I sang it again. He closed his eyes and drifted into the sleeping lands. I cuddled the quiet Ade to my chest. He was quiet, but I lavished the same love onto him. I couldn't decide whom I loved more. It was beyond me to even try.

Ade, with his silent love, opened his jade eyes. They glowed, even in the afternoon light. He reached up and grabbed a lock of my wavy hair. He had inherited his black hair from me. Lance's hair had been no match. I heard a quiet knock. I grew very cross if someone knocked hard, since it was bad enough to try to get my twins to sleep. I gently set the boys on their conjoined cradles and got the door.

Cyrun stood there. She held little Ceara, her baby girl. I smiled. "Did you need something?"

"Well, since you seem to know how to get your children to quiet, I was wondering if you could show me." She whispered. Ceara was in a fitful sleep, I could tell. "So?"

I breathed deeply. I'd only been a parent slightly longer than she. I smiled graciously. "Of course." I brought her over to my rocking chair. "Now, you have sit in this –I'm not quite sure why, but children like the rocking– and rock back and forth." She sat, holding Ceara, I continued. "Now, hum a soft tune, one that'll relax the baby." I felt uncomfortable. Wouldn't she know, being a mother already? Maybe dragons don't have that kind of instinct. I smiled. Ceara was beginning to quiet.

"It works!" Cyrun exclaimed softly. Ceara took after her mother in everything but size. She had her mother's silvery hair and blue eyes. It was a sight to behold. She was beautiful. I still favored my sons over Ceara. Ceara wasn't my child. I tucked a stray lock of Ceara's hair from her eyes. She opened them briefly and took me in. I smiled gently, like I did my children, and she smiled back. Her eyes looked at her mother, then slowly closed. Rocking chairs were like a spell on small infants.

I patted Cyrun's shoulder. Aram was beginning to cry without my warmth. "You'll make a wonderful mother, Cyrun."

She looked back at me, her silver hair parting. "You're already one, Katharine." I grinned and went to attend my twins.

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I watched my wife quietly from the doorway. She was rocking the children, singing softly. Cyrun left a while back. My wife spends _far_ too much time bottled up in this room. She sung in a language neither of us knew. I don't even know what she said, but somehow it soothed little Aram.

I waited. Ade, who _always_ woke after Aram, would be waking soon. They took turns it seems. I entered, announcing my presence. "Hey, love." I whispered. I knew better than to wake the little boys.

"I knew you were there before, Lance." She replied just as softly. I kissed the top of her head. "What time is lunch?"

Katharine had refused a wet nurse. Many ladies had jumped at the option of nursing the young princes. My mother and father had wanted to abdicate in favor of me, but I had refused, saying my wife and I would take the throne at the normal time, when one of my parents passed into the Goddess' arms.

"I think in an hour or so." I replied. Katharine rolled her eyes. She hated public, especially with the young twins. Everyone crooned over the little boys and wanted to know how they were fairing, what their weight, what her secret was! I never left Katharine to them. I wanted to ask how they were doing, but held my tongue. "Can I hold Ade?" I asked, pointing at the one on the left.

"That's Aram." She muttered, handing me the one on the right.

"They look the same!" I replied, cradling little Ade in my arms. "How do _you_ tell them apart?"

"Ade has slightly smaller lips." She shrugged. "They're of my body, I _would_ know them." She held Aram, the more talkative of the two.

The little twins were already two months old, and progressing at an amazing speed. Ceara, the daughter of Cyrun and Bamien, was just about the same size as her birth size. She had matured at the same pace, though, and that confused the palace healers. Cyrun and Bamien shrugged off the remarks that maybe their child weren't _human_.

Katharine left to change Aram's diaper. I went out to the balcony with Ade. A bird, and brave one at that, chirped on the windowsill. Suddenly, it changed, morphing into a human-ish form. He grinned. The human's eyes were dark, black to be exact, and had red hair that tinted black. I knew the colors.

"Katharine said you up and left." I muttered, Ade was nervous. I held him.

"I _did_." Asnarinith replied coolly. "I just wanted to see the princes." He shrugged. "Monsters." He said, after I tried to hide Ade. "Ade, crown or royal, and interesting name. Oh, and Aram, Royal Highness. Interesting picks for the _sons_ of a prince."

"Go away." I said, backing up against the stone walls of the palace.

"My _dear_ prince! I only wanted to see my slave and your princes!" Asnarinith said, offended. "_Besides_ I wanted to tell you something: your wife will _never_ bear a girl!" The human turned and jumped off the balcony, morphing into a bird again. I was shaken. Katharine came out to see me staring off into the distance.

"Dear? I heard voices, who was it?" I handed over Ade. "Lance?"

"Just… an old friend." I muttered. "I need to see Bamien. I'll be right back." I stormed down the halls. I came to Bamien and Cyrun's rooms. I knocked. Bamien answered the doors. Seeing my face, he allowed me entry.

"What's wrong?" He asked. Cyrun called something in that strange snake-elegant tongue. Bamien looked back and answered. "Sorry, Cyrun was wondering who it was."

"Asnarinith." I said. "He visited me and Ade." I looked into Bamien's storm-grey eyes. "He… said he wanted to see 'his slave and the princes'. Did he mean Cyrun?"

"We haven't a word of Asnar." Bamien yelled something to Cyrun. "Yet. We'll be on the watch." Bamien's mind must've been thinking quiet hard because he looked me straight in the eyes. "He saw Ade?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"Goddess help us." He said. He frantically yelled to Cyrun who came stumbling into the open.

"Goddess, Lance." She said. "Do you know what he can do now that he has your child's face in his mind?"

"No. Or I wouldn't've done it!" I yelled. There was something _wrong_.

"Calm down…" Bamien said.

"NO! You're scolding me for something I had no idea was a problem!"

Cyrun moved into my field of vision. "He said you would have no daughters, correct?" I nodded. She rubbed her eyes with her spare hand. "Oh, I knew it! He hasn't put a curse on you, but he saw the future."

"Saw… the… future…?" I asked.

"Asnar wanted to rub it in your face, he does that sometimes."

"Great." I muttered. "My wife wants a daughter, and we'll never have one."

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I smiled at Ceara. She was beautiful. The palace healers said she wasn't normal for her age. I knew that. I didn't care; she was _my_ child. I rocked her back and forth. She was worth it, the being nearly killed by a human Asnar, the convincing Asnar to leave, the being drug nearly a millennia in the future. Her blue eyes stared up at me. Already, she smelled lightly of rain. It boded well. If Cyrun and I were only half-dragon each, she'd be half-dragon as well. I hoped, for whatever reason, she was full-dragon. Her blue eyes entranced me like everything else about Cyrun. Her silver hair, inherited from both sides, gave her a rather unearthly appearance. This had confused the palace healers as well.

_"Even if the parents are early-agers, the child still should have a _normal_ hair color."_ They spoke in whispers. Cyrun and I often appeared when they least wanted us. We brushed off their insensitive comments. How well little Ceara would do was beyond me. I sighed and rocked my small child in my arms. She would be a beauty, like her mother.

**REVIEW! … Please…?**


	22. Epilogue

**Nixiesocean: Okay, a _HUGE_ thanks to _Ardelis Mercy_ for reviewing! Thank you! It was so nice to log on and see all those reviews! Unfortunetly, I _really_ don't want to respond to all of your reviews (he he). But I'll respond to all the chapter 21 reviews.**

**Responses:**

**_Rush of Waves_: Um, yeah, so this is _definitely_ a cliffie. Then again, I love cliffies. They're fun.**

**_Narnialover_: Um, I'm glad you love all my stories. (:-D) Anyways, yes, Katharine won't have any girls (sorry!). It'll work out, you'll see. Of course Asnarinith can't go away yet! He's a recurring villain!**

**_Scoutcraft Piratess_: Awww… what fun would it be to allow them to raise kids in peace? What a boring fairy tale!**

**_Ardelis Mercy_: Well, I can't really take credit, I was taught them in choir, and decided to use them. The one that starts out as _"Himmel und Erde"_ is actually a German song. (:-D). And yes, Katharine will only regain her strength by having a girl, but (gasp) she won't have any!!! Oh no! Looks like a decedent of Queen Katharine will have her strength! I'm updating!**

**Read, enjoy, review and I'll post the sequel sooner…**

_Epilogue_

_I had heard yelling from the halls. I had run to get it. Then, Averill's personal cleaning maid, Fiona, ran from the room, tears streaming down her commoner's face and a rosy blush. I had stopped her with a royal order. She knew enough to obey _my_ royal orders. I ushered her back into Averill's rooms. He saw her and grew angry._

_"She's a tramp! Get that trash _out_ of my rooms!" He screamed. Alan, who most often sided with Averill was looking between us nervously. He then looked at Averill._

_"Ave, come on. She can't be! Plus, if you don't stop yelling Mother will come and you _know_ her temper!" I was surprised by Alan. Normally, he's a pain. Now, he was helping me!_

_"Averill Jones!" I heard an imperious voice call. I rolled my eyes. _Now you've done it_, I thought. "What _is_ this ruckus?" She saw the silently crying Fiona. "What's wrong, child? I don't have my sons treating servants so poorly! Speak up!"_

_I spoke for her. Fiona's a commoner. Commoners can be killed for speaking against the royal family. "Averill called her a rude name, what was it, oh, a tramp. I'm sure it was worse, but that's what I heard. He refused to have 'that_ trash_' in his rooms. Alan tried to get him to quiet down and settle it ourselves but-"_

_"I came. Understood. Now, Averill, what have you to say for yourself? It seems you're a bit of trouble, no?"_

_He glared at me. "I called her nothing of the sort-"_

_"He did too!" Alan said, interjecting. "He called her a tramp, trash and a b-"_

_"ENOUGH!" Mother yelled. "Averill, you are outnumbered, what have you to say for yourself?"_

_"She led me on, shaking that commoner's butt of hers. She told me she could make me feel manly-" Until now, Fiona had been quietly crying. Just then, she burst into loud tears. "Shut your mouth, Trash!" He looked and Mother and blushed. Nothing like getting caught in the act!_

I bit my lip nervously. Mother was very angry with Averill after that. Everyone said Mother had the worst temper. My feet tapped on the hard wood of the stairs. The queen was a lady of deep midnight-black hair and a fiery temper. Knights knew Mother as Sir Eric, though I'm not sure why. Mother has an uncle by the name of Eric. He's long gone. He leaves and comes back every so often. Father says its because he likes to wander. Mother's formal name is "Queen Katharine the Second" -she's the second queen to be called Katharine- "and the Lovely."

I don't think so. I think Great-Uncle Eric likes to leave to get away from us all. He's always in a bad mood, slamming his sword in its sheath far too hard, always hitting the dummy harder than necessary. I heard light footsteps behind me. I turned. Ceara, my best friend, came into view. Only she made such light footsteps. We three were fifteen, an age known for silly comments and fickle emotions. I never quite got over the fluttering feeling in my stomach around the pretty Ceara.

She hated anyone but Aram and I. Men were continually proposing to her. It annoyed her. Maybe its because she draws more attention from the people than Aram and I. I'm always at awe with her startling blue eyes and silvery hair. Before she could talk, I blurt out, "Hey." Kind of lame for a guy that's in love, huh? I'll level with you: I hate romance novels. I like history.

"Hey Ade," She said, sitting with me. "What's wrong?"

She _always_ knows Aram and I apart. We don't know how. We can't fool Mother either, but Father? Father's easy to trick. All I have to do is go outside and hit the dummy while Aram looks interested in a book. Dad will call Aram 'Ade' and Me 'Aram'. It's funny. We haven't done so in a long time.

I have a lot less muscle than Aram now.

I couldn't lie around her either. She would know. "Mother's mad."

"Is she?" Ceara asked politely. I nodded. "What now?"

"Averill called a female servant a…" I refused to speak the word. "A tramp." Averill's twelve and a 'jerk' as the servants say. Alan, the youngest of us, is eleven and a royal –no pun intended– pain. "Alan jumped on him, telling him Mother would be mad. The maid, her name's –I think– Fiona, ran out, blushing. I stopped her, knowing Mother would want to talk with her. She curtsied and stopped, knowing I was the second-oldest."

"And cooler-headed than your brothers." Ceara added quietly.

I smiled. Everyone said I was the better of the two, but I shrugged it off, saying that I was just the hermit-son. I would say 'Aram's better. Look at his fighting. He's a decent study!' Of course, he _also_ has Mother's temper.

I fear being on the wrong side of it. I was once, when I took a tin soldier of his, and I got a black eye and scratches. Lady Cyrun, Ceara's mother, had given me an ointment, so it didn't leave a scar, but _really_, when you think about it…

I sighed. "So, I'm waiting here, trying to think of funeral plans for my brothers."

She put an arm on my back. It was hot where she touched. "Sweet Ade," My ears perked up. "You'll be fine. You'll be a wonderful advisor."

I don't want to be an advisor, I realized suddenly. I wanted to do something amazing with my life. That drive would be in me a long time, burning quietly and slowly.

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Taken from the journal of Prince Averill. Translated from Calanese (The native language of Calain) by Scribe Thomas for Queen Katharine during an inspection of Prince Averill's rooms.

_23 Winter's Heart_

_Journal,_

_I hate him. I _hate_ him! He's always telling Mother the truth. Why can't he ever pick on Alan? Sure, Alan's a pain, but Aram-Ade hates me! Aram-Ade. I rather like it. The only time you can tell the pair of brown-nosers apart is when its morning. Ade _never_ uses a sword. Aram does. Aram's cooler than Ade. Ade's a pain! Ade's _always_ pushing me around, telling me what's not good that I'm doing. Can't Aram-Ade ever be nice to me? Can't I ever please him? No! Of course not. Ade's a "golden boy". He's loved be Father. Anyone can tell, despite how much Mother assures us that they love us all the same._

_No. Such lies, my parents spread. Why _would_ they love us all the same? We're four boys. Mother's always wanted a girl. I don't like girls. Girls are a pain, like that commoner wench Fiona. She's a _(a startled scribe spills a big blot of ink on the paper)_! I don't know how Mother puts up with such trash. Commoners, they're slaves, all of them. Commoner wenches, what good are they? Nothing, except maybe _(another inkblot)_. Sheesh. Mother's so biased. Women! Trash! _(blot)(blot)(blot)_! Why can't Father see what uselessness women provide?_

_Don't even get me started on that wretch Ceara! She's a silver-haired freak. I hear the palace healers talk. They know she's not normal. Why does Father insist on keeping trash in this palace?_

_You know what I think? I think it's high time we took out the trash!_

_Averill_

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Taken from the journal of Prince Alan. Written in a shaky hand.

_24 Winter's Heart_

_My friend,_

_Averill got inn troubl trouble twoday 2day. Hee sais says its becuz Mother is angree angry with himm him. I do not no if this is troo true. He's alwayz geting in troubl trouble. Mother sayz says my spelling is not god. I will get a scribe two rite in this journal latr later._

Taken from the journal of Prince Alan. Written in a more formal writing.

_Written on the 24 day of the month called Winter's Heart_

_Journal,_

_Averill is in trouble. He says it is because Mother is angry with him. I do not know if this is true. He is always getting in trouble. I cannot say whether or not Averill is innocent. I believe he is not. Averill is rarely innocent. I cannot say much more. The scribe is-_ The entry abruptly ends.

Written in a shaky hand.

_Good By,_

_Alan._

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Taken from the journal of Prince Ade. Written in a nice hand.

_24 Winter's Heart_

_Journal (Since I do not call my journal a Diary),_

_Averill is angry with me. I know why, though. He's a brat, more spoiled than Alan now. Alan's annoying, but Averill takes that to a new level. I don't know why we fight so much. Maybe it is because we're nothing alike. We fight over the smallest things, like how to treat the servants. How else but kindly? There are far more servants than royals! They can revolt at any time, why treat them poorly?_

_Maybe I'm empathizing too much. Truly, though, we need to please them. I know one day (hopefully far in the future) the royalty will crumble. It's happened before. Look at The Empire. The Royal Family treated their servants badly, and a revolt occurred, placing the current countries on the map! I feel one day it will happen to Furde. I hope I'm not alive then – it will be bloody._

_Onto happier things. Ceara, the daughter of Lady Cyrun and Lord Bamien was comforting today. She makes me, the second prince, feel needed. I can't explain how, or why, but she does. There's something peculiar about her, that much I know. Oh, how I wish she'd notice me more! Not as a friend, but maybe, as something more? No – banish the thought. I'll have to marry for family power, Ceara, though the daughter of a decently rich family, isn't what my mother would approve of. She fights for women's equality, like Mother, but in a different, subtler way. Instead of whacking men with sticks, she protests the styles of women. She wears dress tunics and breeches instead of formal gowns and lace. She reads and writes instead of sewing. My mother is far more direct._

_I've noticed a change, a small one, in the women of the court. They follow Ceara's lead – ever so slightly. They speak of psychological things. I know because Ceara tells me. Whenever a manservant or a man walks in, they immediately turn to speaking of lace and needles, never betraying their real intent. Mother's noticed. I'm not quite sure, but I have a feeling that Mother approves of Ceara unconsciously. She tries to run her down in public, to secure her position as co-ruler, but doesn't want to admit that Ceara changes things. What am I saying? First, Mother doesn't, then she does? I need to stop writing. I have a book to read to calm my emotions._

_Farewell,_

_Ade._

_P.S. Maybe life will be more interesting when I'm older. Everyone says life's no fun until you're older._


End file.
